


Changes

by Lilytat



Series: Changes [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Complete, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Graduation, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hogwarts Inter-House Unity, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Smut, Pining, Pining Draco Malfoy, Pining Harry, Roommates, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2018-12-31 19:40:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 47,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12139677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilytat/pseuds/Lilytat
Summary: *No rape but there is this big thing that happens where one of the characters sleeps with another one while drunk and its kinda a big deal*The war is over, but that doesn't mean Harry is done fighting. He and his friends return to Hogwarts for their eighth year only to discover that everything they know and love has changed. McGonogall is enforcing a new "house unity" scheme that means all of the eighth years become their own house. And what's worse, Malfoy is one of Harry's roommates.But the fight isn't over for Malfoy, either. He's in danger of being sent to Azkaban if he can't prove that he has changed.When he and Harry strike a deal that could save Malfoy's life and Harry’s potions grade, things begin to change.





	1. The Return

“Oh, goodness, this is so exciting!” Hermione squealed. “I feel like I’m eleven again. Don’t you Ron? Ron?” She asked, looking behind her to find her boyfriend was no longer there. “Oh- where’s he gone off to now?” She asked. 

“Whassit?” Ron asked, wandering over with half of a sandwich in his mouth. 

“It’s too crowded here, we’ve got to stick together if we want to find a seat,” Hermione said. She grabbed Ron’s hand and Harry’s forearm as they trudged through the crowd. The train station platform was buzzing with excitement. The normal amount of wizarding families had attended, but for whatever reason, they seemed to be mostly clumped around Harry and his friends. They were buzzing around like flies and taking unusually excessive amounts of pictures with Harry in the background. “Do you think they’ll have space for us on the train? I wonder what Hogwarts looks like now. Oh, I’m just so excited!” She squealed. 

Harry smiled and looked up at the train. He had never dreamed of going back to Hogwarts after the war. Yet, here he was. The acceptance letter had come in the mail a month ago, inviting him and all of the other previously-7th-year students back to the school for their 8th year. So they could complete their educations and all. Harry knew it would be hard, seeing all of those faces and all of the face who had been lost. No one would be the same. But he didn’t have anywhere else to go. So, home he went. 

“I see Dean and Seamus,” Ron said, swallowing the sandwich in one huge gulp. “Let’s go say ‘hi’.” 

“DON’T YOU DARE LEAVE YOUR MOTHER, RONALD!” Mrs. Weasley shouted, trailing behind them. “Oh, dear me, people are so pushy! I do wish your father had come with me to see you off, but you know him. Busy, busy, busy!” She chirped. “Where’s Ginny? Ginny!” 

“Right here, mum,” Ginny said from Harry’s side. Her small, warm hand grasped his. “Same place I was when you lost me three minutes ago.” 

Mrs. Weasley. “I’m sorry dear, I just-” she spontaneously broke out into tears. “This is the last time I’ll be taking you kids here!” She cried. 

Ron uncomfortably touched his mother’s shoulder. He was now so unbelievably tall and she so unbelievably short, that he nearly had to bend over to complete this action. “It’s alright, mum. Someday, you’ll be taking our kids here, won’t you?” He asked. 

This only seemed to make her sob harder. 

The train let out a high pitched, familiar whistle, signaling that it was time for them to say their final goodbyes. 

“Bye, mum,” Ron said, kissing his mother’s head. “Take it easy, alright?” He asked. 

“Yeah, don’t pay too much attention to that clock,” Ginny said, referring to the clock that signalled the current whereabouts of her family.  It had never really recovered from the war and now stood as a constant reminder of the brother who would never come home again. “You know what Dad says. Don’t trust anything that can’t think for itself or whatever. We’ll write to you a bunch!” 

“Thank you so much for everything, Mrs. Weasley,” Hermione said. 

Harry gave her a hug. “Thank you,” he said. 

She shook her head. “Thank  _ you,  _ Harry, dear,” she said, wiping her nose on a handkerchief. “Well, I suppose I’m officially an empty nester now. See you all for Christmas.” She waved one last time as they boarded the train. 

“This year is going to be weird, huh?” Ginny asked as they boarded the train. “We’re going to be in the same year! We might have classes together!” She said. 

Hermione pulled them into an empty compartment. “And maybe now that you two have been kicked off the Quidditch team, you’ll be able to study for them,” she said. Harry and Ron both deflated a bit. Seeing as they were eighth years, they would not be allowed to try out for Quidditch this year. It would be an unfair advantage, since Gryffindor would no doubt have the most eighth year students. Or something like that. McGonagall had explained it in her letter, but Harry had been too heartbroken to pay attention to it. 

“Don’t worry. I won’t mind if you fly around at practice for a bit,” Ginny, the new Gryffindor captain, said with a smirk. 

The compartment door lurched open as Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood stuck their heads in. “Mind if we join you?” Neville asked, grinning. 

“Not at all,” Harry said, sliding closer to Ginny to make room for them.

“Hello, everyone,” Luna said, as cheerily as ever. 

“Guys, I have some big news,” Neville said excitedly once they were situated. “Professor Sprout has invited me to be her apprentice herbology teacher this year! She said she’s been really proud of my work. I spent a few weeks this summer helping her regrow the greenhouses. They were completely destroyed, of course, but I believe they’ll be back to normal in a month or two.” 

Hermione grinned. “That’s wonderful, Neville! Goodness, I haven’t got the faintest clue as to what I’m going to do when I leave Hogwarts. It all depends on who’s willing to take me, of course.” 

Ron scoffed. “You’ll be Minister of Magic before we ever graduate, Hermione,” he said. 

She blushed and leaned into his side. “Whatever happens, I think the worst is past us.” 

Harry supposed she was right. It was over now. He wouldn’t have to worry about Death Eaters or Voldemort or horcruxes or anything! For once, he could have a normal school year. How on Earth would he do that? He didn’t even know where to begin. 

The rest of the train ride felt like every other train ride. Filled with buzzing excitement, catching up with Neville and Luna, and thinking of the year to come. 

\--

“Welcome, students!” McGonagall said as they entered the Great Hall. If he hadn’t been there, Harry would not have known there had been a war. It looked the same as it had for years. Tables lined across the floor, banners hanging from the ceiling. He almost forgot the sight of the dead and wounded littering the floor and the walls crumbling. Almost. It took a moment before he noticed one extra table and one extra banner hanging from the wall. The banner was red, green, yellow, and blue with a dragon stretching over it. The table underneath was empty, and significantly smaller than the others. 

“What’s that table for?” Harry whispered to Ron, who shrugged. 

They continued to file into the Great Hall and made their way to the Gryffindor table. 

“Would all eighth year students please seat themselves at the table beside the Slytherin table with the dragon banner overhead?” McGonagall asked in a way that made it seem more like a demand than a question.

There were murmurs of confusion as they wandered over. Harry dropped Ginny’s hand. “I’ll see you in the common room later,” he promised. She nodded and found a seat next to several girls in her year. 

“What’s this about?” Ron asked as he, Hermione, Harry, and Neville found seats at the table. 

“They must not have enough space for us at the other tables,” Hermione whispered. 

“This seat taken?” Someone grumbled, gesturing the seat beside Harry. The person was tall and thin. He had let his platinum blonde hair grow out a bit, and now it was tied in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. 

Harry’s heart stopped. “Malfoy,” he said, though it hadn’t come out nearly as bitter as he had expected. He was mostly surprised. Why had he chosen to return? Harry had read in the Daily Prophet that his father had been sentenced to life in Azkaban and his mother was moving to a residence in France while their manor was being renovated. Why had Draco returned instead of staying with his mother?

“Potter,” Draco said. It was less of a snarl and more of an… acknowledgement. “May I sit here or not?” He asked. 

“Erm, sure, I suppose so,” Harry said. 

“What is it? Surprised I’d show my face in this school?” Draco asked. 

Harry frowned. “Your mother saved my life,” he said. 

“You saved mine,” Draco said. He was thinking of what had happened in the room of requirement. Draco sighed. “Listen Potter. I don’t care if we’re friends this year or not, but I want you to know that I’m on your side. I’m not- I’m not my father.” 

This baffled Harry. “I know,” he said. “I never said you were.” Draco huffed and turned to face Blaise on the other side of the table. “Wait, Malfoy,” Harry said. Draco turned back around with a bored expression. “I- I- thank you. When we were caught by the snatchers, you didn’t tell them it was us, even though you knew. You were the reason the Elder Wand didn’t work for Voldemort. You- you kinda saved the world.” 

“What the bloody hell are you talking about, Potter? What Elder Wand?” Draco asked. 

Harry sighed. “Nothing. Just… thanks… I guess.” 

Draco’s frown faltered. “Whatever, Potter.” 

“Just as amiable as ever, I see,” Ron said in Harry’s ear. “If we have to eat with him all year, I might jump out of the owlery window.”

“Quiet, please!” McGonagall announced. The talking ceased at once. “Let the sorting begin. First years, once you are sorted, pleased join your peers at your respective tables. But first, the sorting hat’s annual poem,” she said. She picked up the old hat and held it up. 

It took a deep breath and dust protruded out of the wrinkles in it’s felt. 

“ _ The war is won,  _

_ But the fight is not done.  _

_ Together we must grow.  _

_ As one, we must show  _

_ That we are all on the same side. _

“ _ Some of us have tired  _

_ To fight and have died,  _

_ But it’s for those who we have lost,  _

_ That we continue at all costs. _

_ We will continue to learn,  _

_ And we will continue to yearn  _

_ For better friends and closer peers than ever before, _ ” It recited. The Great Hall broke into some slightly mournful applause. They, too, remembered the sight of the death lined up in a single row down the center of the room. They remembered the makeshift hospital beds composed of fallen beams and rubble. They remembered the blood stains on the floor that had since been cleaned off. Just mere months ago, this place had been a graveyard and no one was likely to forget that. 

“That was shorter than usual,” Hermione muttered. 

“Well, it hasn’t had as much time to think about it as it usually has, right?” Ron asked. “I imagine the battle distracted it a bit from its regularly scheduled rhyming.” 

“Let the sorting begin!” McGonagall shouted over the bustle of the students. 

Harry chose this moment to let his mind wander. He didn’t know any of the kids being sorted this year, so it didn’t matter much to him what house they’d be in. He stared at the back of Malfoy’s head. What had he meant when he said he was on Harry’s side? There were no sides anymore. The war was over. Of course he wasn’t his father! Harry knew that. And what about the part about them being friends? Did Draco want to be friends with Harry? He hadn’t since first year, and Harry couldn’t imagine him wanting to again. Did Harry want to be friends with Draco? Draco had practically saved Harry’s life several times during the battle. Sure he had also almost killed him, but that didn’t matter now, did it? 

Just as the sorting was finished, Harry zoned back in. 

“Prefects, please guide the first years to your common rooms. Eighth years, please remain seated until further instructions,” McGonagall said. 

“What?” Ron asked. “ _ Please  _ don’t tell me we aren’t going to the Gryffindor common room!” He whined. 

Draco huffed and spun around. “That’s about it, Weasley. They don’t have room for us what with all of the first years. That’s why they’ve got us all over here,” he said. 

Ron frowned. “But- but the castle, Can’t it- can’t it-” 

“It can repair itself magically, but it can’t really grow new dormitories,” Hermione said. “Well… I suppose it could, but it can’t control where it grows them.” 

“No! We’ve got to be in Gryffindor!” Ron said. “This is our last year!” 

“Do you think the castle knows that?” Hermione asked. “It just knows it has more students than usual.” Her voice was heavily weighted with disappointment. This year was going to be different, for sure.

“Hello, eighth years,” McGonagall said with a smile. She stood at the head of the table. Now, she looked like her old self, and less like the war general and headmistress she had been previously. “It’s so nice to see you all again. It really is. I have to admit, I was a bit surprised by the amount of you who expressed wanting to come back after… last year. I know many of you went through a lot. You watched your friends and families die, some of you were forced to torture and kill them yourselves. But I want you to know that won’t happen again. You all fought incredibly hard for this school, and now, the school is repaying you. I want you to know that if you ever need  _ anything,  _ just knock on my office door. I have decided to step down from Gryffindor Head of House so that I may be yours,” she said. 

“Wait, professor!” Seamus shouted. “Does that mean all of us… are going to be one house?” He asked. 

McGonagall bowed her head. “That is correct, Mr. Finnegan. The eighth years are our fifth Hogwarts house. You will be the first in an experiment on house unity. I never agreed with the house system, and now, you students will be testing my theory. This year, you all will be eating together, sleeping together, sharing a common room, and attending classes together.” 

The students all began to mingle angrily. No one seemed very happy with this idea in the least bit. 

“Shush, now!” McGonagall shouted. “This is exactly why we are doing it! You’ve grown to dislike students from  other houses, and why? Just because one student has been labeled brave and another smart, that doesn’t mean you can’t be compatible friends! I believe every single one of you is smart. You’re all brave, you’re all kind, and you’re all cunning. You all represent each of the four houses in your own unique way. And the only way for you all to learn who you really are and what it really means to be a Hogwarts student is for you to mix amongst yourself.” She paused. Now, the students were silent. “Now, because I will also be Headmistress as well as your Head of House, I will not be able to supervise you as closely as you have been in the past. You’re all of age now, so I can’t force you to do much. But, while you’re students here, you still have to obey the rules of the school. That said, some of the rules have been altered to better suit your newfound responsibility.” 

This idea everyone seemed to like. 

“Curfew will be pushed back to midnight, but if I see anyone, and I mean  _ anyone, _ ” Harry could’ve sworn she was glaring at him, “out of bed past then, they will face severe consequences. You do not need permission slips to enter Hogsmeade and you may go when you please as long as it’s before curfew and there are no classes, but you must sign in and out using the sheet on the billboard in your common room. There will be no alcohol on school grounds. If I catch anyone with alcohol, they’ll face immediate expulsion. I am  _ not  _ exaggerating,” she said seriously. “If I find that you are unable to handle all of this, I’m not afraid to take it away.” There was a heavy silence. “Now, if you’ll follow me to your common room.” 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all stood and began to follow. “Did you hear that? Harry, you won’t have to sneak into Hogsmeade anymore! And we’ll be able to go whenever we want!” Ron said. 

“We’ll hardly have time,” Hermione said. “It’s never too early to start studying for N.E.W.Ts.” 

“Right, those,” Ron said, his face dropping a little bit. “How do I know what to study for if I haven’t decided what I want to do yet?” 

McGonagall lead them around the school to the tower where the owlery was. Now, instead of two floors of emptiness, there seemed to be a multi-tiered dormitory. “The password is Dumbledore’s Goat, don’t forget it! Your common room is on the first floor, the girls dormitory is on the second floor, the boys are on the third floor, and the owlery is the fourth. Room assignments are posted on the bulletin board,” she announced. “Now, don’t stay up too late. I’ll see you all for transfiguration first block.” With that, she wandered down the hallway. 

They all stood there for a moment. 

“Well, are we going to go in or what?” Pansy Parkinson sneered. Harry was not thrilled that she had decided to come back this year. 

Seamus sighed and looked up at the portrait of some prince or another glaring down at him. “Dumbledore’s Goat,” he said. 

The portrait chuckled. “Indeed!” He said before swinging open. Slowly, the students began to file into the common room. 

Harry’s first impression was that it was very different. Well, not quite. One corner was very familiar. There was a warm fireplace with two large armchairs and a couch around it. The wall was a hearty red and the head of a roaring lion hung above the fireplace. Another corner Harry vaguely recognized as the Slytherin corner. It was a lot darker with grey stone walls and a great stained glass snake. The corner behind the Slytherin one was the Hufflepuff corner, Harry assumed. There was another bright fireplace. In front of it, there was what looked like an arts-and-crafts table and a lot of bean-bag chairs. The walls were composed of several large windows, and a life-sized badger statue stood in the center of it. The corner beside it was the Ravenclaw corner. Harry couldn’t tell the color of the wall because it was covered by bookshelves aside from one long window down the center. Instead of chairs or couches, there were tables with headlamps over them for perfect studying. A great eagle hung down from the chandelier.

And then, there was the center of the room. Several armchairs and couches were arranged in a circle around a statue of a dragon that was about as tall as Harry’s hip. Behind it were two stair cases leading up to the dorms. 

Ron was the first to speak. “Well this is… new,” he said. “You guys got beanbag chairs?” He asked Hannah Abbott. 

“And a craft table!” She said merrily. 

“Eugh, all of this natural lighting is hurting my eyes,” Blaise Zabini said, squinting at the windows. “Let’s check out the rooming assignments.” 

They all swarmed around the small bulletin board. Harry scanned the sheets for his name, but he was high-fived before he could. 

“We’re together!” Ron said. He was tall enough that he could peak over the heads of everyone else. “And we’re with… Zabini and Malfoy,” he snarled. “Stupid house unity. Looks like Hermione’s got Padma, Parvati, and… Pansy Parkinson. That’s rough. Padma and Parvati are nice, though.”

“Malfoy?” Harry asked. “Seriously?” 

“Yeah. But at least we’re together, right?” He asked. 

Harry nodded. Rooming with Malfoy? That was a whole new level of weird. “Let’s go up and claim beds before they do,” he said eagerly, 

“Right,” Ron said. “Let me just say goodnight to Hermione. Go on, I’ll be right up,” he said, flushing a bit. Harry knew it was awkward for Ron and Hermione, but he found their relationship funny and entertaining. They did something sweet and romantic, and then they would realize Harry was giggling at them. Every time Harry caught them, they would both flush intensely. Ron would try to play it off and Hermione would try to hide in whatever she had in her hands. Harry, quite frankly, was pretty happy for them. Besides, they had walked in on him and Ginny too many times to count. 

He made his way over to the staircase on the right and began to climb. 

“Bloody ridiculous,” Seamus said, running up the stairs so he could walk next to Harry. “Why have we got to be on the third floor? Why can’t the girls?” He asked. “I bet our dorms are going to smell like owl shit.” 

Harry laughed. “Who are you rooming with?” He asked. 

“Dean and some blokes from Hufflepuff. This whole house unity thing is stupid, I bet they put us back in our respective houses before Christmas break,” Seamus snarled. “Dean thinks it will be fun, though. He thinks we’ll have some pretty great parties.” 

“Maybe,” Harry said. “Hey, is Dean okay? He was on the run for most of last year, wasn’t he?” He asked. 

Seamus shrugged. “He’s pretty good. He came by my place Easter break and my mum stuffed him like a turkey. He had to leave pretty quick though. I’ve talked to him about it a couple times and he seems fine. He found out his Dad had been killed by death eaters, though, and he lost a half-sister. He never really knew his father, but losing his sister kinda took a toll on him.” 

“Oh,” Harry said softly. “I- I had no idea.” 

“Yeah, well, I reckon we all lost someone,” Seamus said as they made it to the third floor. “This is mine. See ya, Harry,” he said. 

“Bye, Seamus,” Harry said as he disappeared into a room. Harry wandered down the hallway until he located his own bedroom. He pushed the door open to see four four-poster beds lined up against the wall. Two of them were shrouded in red curtains with red sheets and the other two were green. Harry located his trunk at the foot of the bed in between the other red one and a green one. 

“Potter,” Draco said as he walked into the room. 

“Malfoy,” Harry said. 

Draco frowned. “I believe you have something of mine that I would like back.” 

Harry nodded and opened his trunk. “Your wand. I’ve got it right here,” he said. He had carefully placed it at the top of his trunk so it wouldn’t break. 

“Thanks,” Draco said. He ran his fingers down it. “I’ve been using one I took from some Death Eater. Doesn’t really work the same,” he said. He looked up and his grey eyes met Harry’s green ones. “Thanks. For my wand. And for saving my life twice,” he said. 

Harry shrugged. “You saved mine a few times, so I think we’re settled. I hope… I hope we can be… I don’t want to hate you anymore, Malfoy.” 

The door opened, making both boys jump about three feet back. Harry leaned on his bed and Draco started looking for his trunk, as if nothing had happened. And nothing had. 

“Were all of those stairs really necessary?” Ron asked, panting as he came in. He wandered over to the other red bed, where his little owl sat in a cage on his trunk. “Hey there, Pig.” 

“If I find any bird poop on my clothes, you’re done for, Weasley,” Malfoy sneered. 

It was going to be a weird year indeed. 

 


	2. Different

The first morning was strange, that was for sure. Harry woke up to a familiar bed, but once he left that bed, everything was foreign. He sat up and rubbed his eyes before fumbling for his glasses. He pulled the curtain around the bed open and light poured in. Instead of his usual view of Neville’s cactus or Dean and Seamus wrestling, he saw Malfoy. 

“Finally awake, are you, Potter?” Malfoy snarled. His chest was bare, all he was wearing were silk pajama bottoms. His blonde hair fell lightly onto his shoulders like a golden waterfall. For some reason, this sight disoriented Harry to no end. “Take a picture, it will last longer,” Draco said with a slight grin when Harry still hadn’t stopped staring at him. 

“I wasn’t- I- fuck off, Malfoy,” Harry said, his cheeks flushing.

“Hey, Hermione’s meeting us downstairs in five,” Ron said as he fumbled with his tie. 

Harry shook his head in attempt to wake himself up. He slid off the bed and got ready as quickly as he could. He stood in the mirror for about three of his five minutes, trying to get his thick black hair to do  _ anything  _ other than what it was doing at that moment. There was no hope. It was going to be messy no matter what, so he threw it into a sloppy bun so the hair in his eyes would be minimal.  

“I’m leaving without you!” Ron called. 

“Oi! I’m coming!” Harry grumbled. He gave his hair one last fluff with his hand before jogging out the door after Ron. 

It took them several minutes to get down the staircase, that seemed to get longer every time Harry looked at it, and find Hermione waiting at the bottom. “Morning!” She chirped. “How’d you sleep?” She asked. They left the common room and began to wander down the hallway. The glow of the sun lighting their walk was different than it was leaving the Gryffindor common room. Instead of lighting the corridor like a chandelier, the light peaked halfway through the windows and made Harry’s eyes hurt. 

Ron yawned and stretched his arms. “Zabini has a snoring problem. I didn’t fall asleep until 1 AM when Malfoy finally got up and hexed him,” he grumbled. 

Harry laughed. “I didn’t hear a thing. Aside from Pig hooting all night, but I’m used to that by now.” 

“Well, I slept like a baby!” Hermione said. “It was quite odd, actually. Lavender always used to play music going to sleep and I didn’t hear anything last night! She’s rooming down the hall from me this year.” 

“It’s… different,” Harry said. 

Ron laughed to himself. “Yeah. You think you’ll ever get used to waking up to the sight of Malfoy?” He asked. “You were gawking at him for three minutes straight!” 

“I was not!” Harry said, hitting his friend in the shoulder. “I was confused is all! I’m not used to the blonde git not having his hair done or whatever. It was quite an appalling sight. It’s like seeing bears with no fur,” he said. Ron roared with laughter. “How do you think Ginny’s fairing without us?” Harry asked, though it was only to draw attention to the fact that he  _ did  _ have a girlfriend and therefore could not be gawking at Malfoy. 

Hermione had a smug smile plastered to her face. “I’m sure she’s doing just fine,” she said, as if she knew exactly why Harry tried to change the subject. 

They entered the Great Hall and Harry almost walked to the Gryffindor table. He spun on his heel and followed Hermione and Ron to the eighth year table, both of them giggling. “Shut up, you two!” Harry laughed. 

“Oi! Harry, Ron, Hermione, over here!” Dean Thomas called from the end of their small table. They took seats next to him and the rest of the Gryffindors. “We’re having a game of truth-or-dare in the common room tonight, in the spirit of ‘house unity’!” He said in an identical impression of McGonagall. 

“You guys in?” Seamus asked. 

“I dunno,” Hermione said. “We should really be starting the year off on a good foot-” 

Ron squeezed her shoulders. “And we will be! In house unity! Come on, ‘mione, who’s going to give us homework on our first night back? We should be getting to know our new housemates!” He said. 

Harry looked down the length of the table. Ron had a point, a lot of these people Harry had never really noticed before. He didn’t know many of their names! Draco was still missing from the table, along with Blaise, but Harry hadn’t seen them leave the room. Perhaps they were throwing his clothes out the window or something. There was nothing he could do about it now. 

Suddenly, Harry’s timetable appeared on the table in front of him, next to his toast platter. “Transfiguration first,” he read. 

“That’s nice, nothing new,” Hermione said. “Nothing should be hard for us now, right?” 

“I hear McGonagall knows that and she’s stepping up her game,” Seamus said, shoveling eggs into his mouth. “Have you seen the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?” He asked. 

Ron nodded. “Yeah, was she the lady who was sitting next to Slughorn last night?” He asked. He, too, stuffed his mouth with eggs. 

Seamus grinned. “She’s cute, isn’t she? One of the Ravenclaws recognized her, said she was in seventh year when we were in second. Victoria Nullings. She was an auror when she left Hogwarts, but they’re firing a bunch of them now that the war is over. Do you think she’ll be the one to break the curse?” 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “There is no curse! Just bad luck,” she said. “I do hope she’s good though. She’s got to be with Harry in her class!” 

“Yeah, why don’t they just let Harry teach the class?” Dean asked. 

Harry waved them off. “Do you honestly think I could get Malfoy and his Slytherin goons to listen to me? I’d have you all call me Professor Potter. Good luck on your N.E.W.Ts, I’ll fail you all for leaving clothes in the dormitory showers,” he said. “Detention, Weasley! For leaving your shirt on my bed. And for your mother’s sweaters. Mine was itchy last year. Three hundred points to Gryffindor for being ridiculously awesome and negative ten points for everyone else.” 

His friends laughed and continued to eat their breakfast as if they weren’t dining on the deathbed of their friends and families. Everyone could feel it, but everyone chose to ignore it. It would go away someday, wouldn’t it?

The eighth years walked to transfiguration together. It was easier that way. While reforming, some of the corridors twisted and turned, so they weren’t the same as they had been. Then again, Harry had never really known all of the nooks and crannies of the castle, even with the Marauder’s Map. 

“Hello, there. I’m so glad you could make it,” McGonagall said as they entered the classroom. “Please, sit anywhere.” Hermione, Ron, and Harry found a table toward the back of the room with Neville. 

“Professor, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but why are you teaching  _ and  _ being headmistress  _ and  _ being our house head? Dumbledore never did any of that,” Seamus said.

McGonagall gave a small smile. “It seems as though I am more capable than Dumbledore was, may he rest in peace. Besides, there’s nothing I love more than teaching you students. Now, if you’ll all open your books to the Introduction of  _ Advanced Transfiguration _ , we may begin.” 

\--

“Potions,” Ron huffed. “Do you think Slughorn will do that stupid Slug Club again?” He asked. 

“I doubt it,” Hermione said. “But if he does, I’m certain you’ll be invited. I’m not sure you’ve noticed, but we’re kind of a big deal.” As she said that, several second year Ravenclaws walked by, staring at the trio as if they were movie stars.

Ron scoffed. “Please. I doubt Slughorn’s even bothered to learn my name.” They walked into the classroom that was already crowded with eighth year students. There were two people per desk, and most everyone had already found partners. Ron and Harry met eyes. “I CALL HERMIONE!” Ron shouted, seizing his girlfriend by the arm. 

“No!” Harry shouted. “You got her sixth year!” 

Ron stuck his tongue out. 

“Sorry, Harry. But Ron does need my help more than you do,” Hermione said, blushing. Harry decided that it probably had nothing to do with the fact that they were dating now and didn’t want him around all the time. He glared at Ron one last time before finding an open cauldron in the back of the classroom. 

“Mind if I join you, Potter?” Malfoy asked. “Everywhere else is taken.” 

Harry sighed. “What, your friends ditched you?” He asked. 

“Pansy paired off with Blaise and Greg isn’t taking potions this year,” Draco said, setting his bag down on the ground beside him. 

“Greg?” Harry asked. 

Draco gave him a bored look. “Greg Goyle. Not the sharpest knife in the box, but that doesn’t matter. Weasley and Granger run off without you?” He asked. 

“Hermione says Ron needs her help more than I do,” Harry said. 

The other boy snickered. “Let’s get one thing straight, Potter. I’ll be the one making the potions in this class,” he said. He pushed back a lock of hair that had fallen out of his ponytail. Harry wondered why he had to have robes that were so much different than everyone else’s. They were black with green trim, tight at the top and flared at his waist. He looked like the younger, more handsome version of his father. Not that Harry noticed or anything. “You just try to keep from staring at me for too long, pretty boy,” Draco said. 

“Don’t call me that,” Harry said. 

“Fine, boy wonder.” 

“Hello, everyone!’ Slughorn called to his chattering class. “I see you’ve all paired yourselves off, yes, very good! So excellent to see you all here, well and alive!” He said. Several people gasped. “Not alive- I mean- it’s nice to see you all. I’m glad you were all able to make it back here for your last year. Quite frankly, I’m a bit surprised all of you made it.” A few more people gasped and one girl from Hufflepuff stormed out of the room. “No! That’s not what I meant! I mean… it’s been a long summer. Oh, let’s just get started! Please turn to page 5 in your  _ Potion making for Pros Volume III  _ books.” 

Draco pulled the book out of his bag and laid it on the desk. “Old Sluggy’s  _ already _ made a fool of himself. I think he made poor Sally-Anne Perks cry!” 

Harry didn’t like Slughorn much, either, but he wasn’t going admit that to Draco. “Whatever, Malfoy. Let’s just start the potion,” he huffed. 

` They began to work. Well- Draco began to work while Harry stood next to him and pretended to look busy. He pretended to read the recipe about four times, organized the ingredients, and did whatever he could to get in Malfoy’s way and bug him. Every time Malfoy scowled or slapped Harry’s hand away, his heart lifted a tiny bit. In Harry’s mind, this was the first step of them forgiving each other. For the battle in the bathroom. For all of the taunting that lead to injury. Now, it was just for fun.

“What’s going on here?” Slughorn asked as he caught Malfoy yank Harry’s wrist away from the spoon they were using to stir the cauldron. 

Draco gave a sly smile. “Just reminding Potter that it’s my turn to stir, sir,” he said.

Slughorn grimaced, as if deciding whether or not he was willing to forget Draco’s family’s actions during the war. His eyes searched Harry for answers, and Harry tried desperately not to grin. He gave a small smile to tell Slughorn it was okay and went back to dragging his sleeve through some mandrake juice. 

“Potter!” Draco hissed, seizing Harry’s arm again. “You’re a toddler, I swear to Merlin!” For whatever reason, this made Harry’s insides light up.

By the end of class, they had an almost perfect potion on Harry’s robes, and an even more perfect one in their cauldron. Draco carefully poured it into a vial and left Harry to clean everything up without a word. 

\--

“He must know!” Draco whined. 

“I doubt it. That Potter kid isn’t very observant,” Blaise muttered, flipping the page in his arithmancy book. Luckily, Harry wasn’t in this class. It was the only safe spot Draco could talk about him, for he was nearly everywhere else. “You climbed a tree for him and he didn’t notice.” 

Draco scowled. “We don’t talk about that, Blaise. You should’ve seen the way he was flirting with me in potions. Why else would he be acting like that? We were on  _ opposite sides of the war he won!  _ And now he’s flirting with me? It doesn’t make sense.” 

“Are you sure he was flirting?” Blaise was unfazed. The first day and they were already doing actual arithmancy. That was a bad sign for the rest of the year. 

“He kept going out of his way to annoy me!” 

“I’m pretty sure that’s just who he is as a person.”

“And then this morning, when he was just  _ staring  _ at me? What was that about?” 

“Number six is 53, have you gotten number four yet?” 

“Like… he stared at me… and then he put his glasses on… and continued to stare at me.” 

Blaise groaned and dropped his head on the table. “Draco! You’re worse than Pansy! Stop worrying about some boy and help me do this problem!” He snapped. 

Draco gasped. “Potter is  _ not  _ just ‘some boy’, Blaise. Have you  _ seen  _ that bloody smirk he does? Damn. And also he saved the world from the Dark Lord or whatever a few months ago but, curse me, those  _ biceps. _ ” 

Blaise sighed and slammed his book closed. “Okay, I’m going to go sit over there with the Ravenclaw guys, and you can join me when you’re done being insane.” 

“Okay! I’m done! I’m done! Four is 89,” Draco said. He sighed as he bent over the next problem, but his mind kept circling back to Harry bloody Potter. How could this be happening again? For a while, Draco had genuinely hated Potter. The sight of his face made his insides squirm. But then, they went back to squirming a different way. Draco  _ wanted  _ to hate Potter, he didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing Draco…. But Potter had been right during the war. Stupid bloody Good Guy Potter couldn’t make a mistake. And he saved Draco’s life countless times, and living in the woods all of those months made him look just the kind of rugged handsome that slowly destroyed Draco.

_ Merlin, Potter. Can’t stop killing me, can you? _ Draco mused to himself. 


	3. Truth or Dare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Insinuated self harm in the beginning.

“Draco’s up to something,” Harry said. 

Ron screamed and shoved his face into a pillow, pounding his fists on the small table beside the chair. Hermione giggled and turned bright pink. 

“ _ That  _ was dramatic,” Harry grumbled. 

“Ron has a point,” Hermione said. 

“AAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHH is not a point,” Harry grumbled.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Harry. You’re just as obsessed with Malfoy as you were in sixth year. He’s changed! He’s learned from his mistakes. You two were getting along so well in potions today, I thought you had accepted him. Silly me.” 

“That’s what makes me think he’s up to something,” Harry said. His eyes narrowed on the blonde sitting across the common room. “He laughed at one point- did you hear it? It was like… like…. He laughed. He was swatting my arm away and I stuck my tongue out and he laughed. Merlin, it was…” Harry’s face glowed. Suddenly, he felt like Hermione and Ron were staring at him. “He just… he’s never like that. He must be… up to something.” 

“Up to what?” Ron asked, bored of this conversation. “And what happened this morning when you literally gawked at him for five minutes straight?” 

“Oh, yes! You mentioned that this morning!” Hermione giggled. 

“You should’ve seen him,” Ron chuckled. “He sat up and pulled open the curtain and Malfoy was standing there shirtless and Harry stared at him in awe forever. It was like seeing those videos of blind people seeing their loved ones for the first time. Nearly teared me up.”

“Ron! Harry’s  _ dating  _ your  _ sister! _ ” Hermione said. 

Harry smiled. “Yes! That! I’m dating- yeah!” He said, thankful for a saviour from this torment. “I think Dean’s truth-or-dare game is starting soon, let’s get ready,” he muttered, but his eyes were still on Draco. 

Everyone had changed out of their uniforms and into more comfortable clothes. For many, that was muggle clothes, such as a t-shirt (or a hand-knit sweater from Mrs. Weasley). For others, it was slightly looser robes (navy blue, they brought out Draco’s grey eyes and made his hair seem even lighter, if possible). They slowly and tentatively began to assemble in the center of the room. 

“Alright! Who’s ready for this? Malfoy, Zabini, get your asses over here,” Dean announced once the entire eighth year had assemble. He and Seamus pushed the furniture away from the center of the room so they all had space to sit. 

Harry sat beside Ron and Neville, anticipation flickering in his chest as Draco and Blaise sat down directly across from them. 

“Okay!” Seamus clapped his hands together. “So for you noobs who don’t know how to play truth or dare, here’s how it goes. We’re going to go around in a circle. When it’s your turn, you chose someone and ask them if they want a truth or a dare. They chose, and you deliver. But in this game of truth or dare, we’re going to do it a little differently. If you chose not to do your truth or dare, you have to take off one article of clothing and leave the room. Once you’ve left the room, the rest of the group gets to decide whether the person who chose you kisses you or slaps you. You come back in, and you’re slapped or kissed. Also, if you chose truth and your answer is a lie, you will be punished. We’ve placed charms on the room so it can detect lies. Everyone got it?” He asked. 

There was muttering and a few nods. 

“I’m starting!” Pansy announced in a sing-song voice. She grinned and surveyed the circle, tapping her fingers together like a villain. Her eyes finally settled on Neville. “Longbottom, truth or dare?” She asked, grinning. 

Neville’s face turned pale. He glanced at Harry for support, but he had none to offer. “D- dare?” Neville sputtered. 

Pansy’s grin widened. “I dare you to send a picture of us snogging to your gran,” she said like a she-demon. 

Neville sighed, but he obliged. “Fine,” he said. 

“Fine?” Pansy asked. “I’m a pleasure, Longbottom.” 

He turned to Harry and smirked. “Jokes on her, my gran will be pleased that there’s a chance for the Longbottom name to be passed down another generation. She knows romance isn’t for me anyway,” he whispered. Harry laughed. “Come on, Parkinson. Who’s going to take the picture?” 

“It’d better be me,” Hannah Abbott said, pulling out a camera. 

Neville sighed and moved into the middle of the circle with Pansy. Without further ado, he grabbed her face and kissed her in a way that looked entirely painful and not at all pleasureable. Harry wasn’t sure what was happening, it was too hard for him to watch without cringing. Instead, his eyes found Malfoy. His perfect posture, even if he was sitting on the rock hard ground without leaning on anything. His hair that was no longer in the pony tail. How had it gotten so long that quickly? As if he knew Harry was staring, Draco flipped the silver waterfall over his head and quickly tied it into a messy bun, allowing two strands in the front to fall out and frame his face. Harry had to remind himself to keep his mouth closed.

Ron sighed and pushed a cold butterbeer into Harry’s side, and he thankfully took it. 

When it was over, there was a round of slightly disturbed applause and Neville and Pansy both sat back down, looking all too flustered. 

Next, was Goyles turn. 

“Draco,” he said. Malfoy sighed and cast his gaze downward. “Truth or dare?” 

Malfoy bit his lip, still staring at the floor. “Dare.” 

Goyle chuckled. “I dare  _ you  _ to snog Pansy and send a picture to your mum,” he said. 

Draco rolled his eyes and unbuttoned the front of his robes and slid them off his shoulders. “Sorry, Pans, but I’m not kissing you. I know where that mouth has been,” he said, earning himself some ‘ooooooo’s. Neville suddenly looked fairly green. Draco grinned slyly and stood up. He was wearing a very thin white t-shirt and black pants now. “I’ll be in the corridor, come and get me when you’ve decided if I’m getting slapped or kissed.” 

Seamus grinned. “Okay! Who votes Goyle slaps Malfoy?” He asked. 

“He should go in for a kiss and then slap him across the face!” Parvati giggled. 

“All in favor for the kiss tease?” Seamus asked. Everyone raised their hands. “Kiss tease it is! Someone go get him!” 

Draco entered the room looking slightly bored, like whatever was about to happen, he was expecting it. He sighed and crosses his legs and sat onto the floor in front of Goyle. “What will it be, Gregory?” He asked, smirking. 

Goyle sighed and slowly leaned in, pursing his lips in a way that let Harry know he had never kissed anyone before. He waited until Draco finally leaned a little closer to back up and slap him hard across the cheek. “A slap!” Goyle announced as Draco’s hand flew up to where Goyle had hit him. 

“Oi! I’m glad I got out of kissing you, but did you have to hit so hard?” Draco whined, moving back to his spot beside Zabini. 

“My turn!” Zabini clapped his hands together. “Draco, truth or dare?” 

Draco groaned, still massaging his slapped cheek. “Truth,” he finally said. 

Zabini smirked. “What’s your biggest regret?” He asked. 

The blonde scowled and lifted his shirt over his head. Harry’s eyes were drawn to the thin white stripes across Draco’s torso. The sectumsempra scars. Harry’s heart dropped to his feet. On his forearm was the faded dark mark, also with thin white scars over it. Harry’s heart sank even lower. “I’d better get a bloody kiss this time,” he snarled before leaving the room. Harry was confused. What could Draco possibly be wanting to hide from them? What could be so bad that Draco was willing to show his classmates his Dark Mark instead of telling them his biggest regret? Surely anyone in the room could assume Draco’s biggest regret would be joining the wrong side of the war. But no, it was some dark, brooding secret that he couldn’t possibly share with the rest of the room. 

“Okay, should we spare him and give him a kiss this time?” Seamus asked. Clearly, Harry had not been the only one to notice the scars. There were some mutters of agreement. “Kiss it is. Bring him back in!” 

Draco willingly accepted a kiss from Zabini (which made Harry oddly uncomfortable), and then it was his turn He surveyed the room for his victim for several minutes before his eyes finally rested on Harry. “Potter,” he said. Harry groaned, making Ron giggle beside him. “Truth or dare?” He asked. 

Harry’s heart thudded in his chest. Why was he nervous? What could Draco possible do that would make Harry humiliated? He had saved the world! He had saved Draco countless times! He shouldn’t be afraid of anything! Then again, if he chose dare, Draco would probably force him to eat his own shit or something. As fearless as Harry was, he was a bit squeamish. “Truth,” he finally answered. 

There was a silence. Clearly, Draco hadn’t anticipated this. 

“Come on, Malfoy? Not clever enough to think of something for me?” Harry asked, grinning. 

“Oh, I have plenty of ideas, Potter. Just trying to decide on the worst,” Malfoy said slyly. 

“Try me. I’m not afraid of anything you have to ask me!” 

“I’m thinking, Potter! Shut up!” 

“Make me!” 

Pansy coughed loudly. “Just kiss already!” She said into her hand. She coughed again. Everyone laughed and Harry prayed his cheeks weren’t glowing as much as he thought they were. 

“Alright, alright!” Draco said over the noise. “I’ve decided. Potter, tell the truth.” He hesitated and shook his head. “Do you think you’re straight?” He finally asked. 

The group ooed and watched Harry. He chuckled and pulled his t-shirt over his head. Hermione looked oddly smug as he put his shirt on the ground and left the room. Everyone else seemed mildly shocked. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell them yes or no, it was that he didn’t know. And he didn’t want to risk the charms in the room telling him he had lied if he said ‘yes’. He knew at one point he had had a crush on Ginny, and at one point on Cho. But now, he wasn’t sure. Sometimes, men made his heart race, the same way it had for Ginny. Harry just wasn’t sure. He wandered into the corridor and leaned against the wall, watching the portraits on the other side. They all giggled and pointed at his bare chest.

“Hey, mate, you can come back in now,” Ron said, climbing out from behind the portrait. “Do you, er, want to talk about it or something?” He asked tentatively. 

Harry shook his head and grinned. “I just did that to confuse Malfoy,” he said. 

Ron grinned. “Alright! But… if you ever want to… talk about it. I’m- I-” he sighed and put his hands in his pockets, looking at Harry with a pleading look in his eye. 

“Hermione put you up to this, didn’t she?” Harry asked. 

“Yeah,” Ron said, relieved. “But it’s true. If you ever need to talk, I’m your mate.” 

“Right,” Harry said. Maybe someday, he’d take him up on that offer. But today, Harry wasn’t really worried about it. “Thanks, mate. Let’s just go back inside so I can face impending doom,” he chuckled.

Ron grinned and walked back into the room. 

As Harry rejoined the circle, anxiety swelled in his chest. “What will it be, Malfoy?” He asked and positioned himself in front of the blonde. 

“If I told you, it would ruin the surprise,” Draco said, grinning. 

“JUST DO IT ALREADY!” Pansy shouted. 

Draco sighed and sat up. He cupped Harry’s chin in his long fingers, tilting his head up slightly. Harry’s heart stopped and he leaned in expectantly. Then, Draco raised his other hand and slapped Harry’s cheek. Both boys began to smile. “You’re welcome, Potter!” Draco smirked, casting his gaze away. 

The rest of the game, not much happened. Millicent Bulstrode lied about having had sex with her boyfriend of several years and sprouted a faceful of purple blisters. Most of the interesting dares or truths had been avoided. Seamus and Dean had a rather emotional kiss in the center of the circle that lasted much longer than any of the others. By the end of the game, almost no one had clothes left on. Harry had been reduced to just his boxers after Pansy dared him to go around giving autographs to anyone who would stop for a moment. 

“Look at us,” Parvati said softly when it was her turn. The chatter and buzz of the group stopped to listen to her. “Look at us!” She said again. “We fought in a war! We fought against each other, and here we all are. Together. Look at us! Look at all of the scars we’ve gotten. We don’t look like… children anymore,” she said in a hushed voice. No one said anything.

“Someone’s had too much butterbeer,” Dean whispered to Seamus after a pregnant pause. Seamus grinned but kept his eyes on Parvati. 

“Ron, hold up your arms,” Parvati continued after a glare in Dean’s direction.  His face turned white and he held up his two forearms for everyone to see. 

There were winding white scars in his forearms and a thick purple one around his shoulder. The ones on his forearms almost looked beautiful and purposeful, the way they swirled and cradled him, like white tattoos. “These are actually from fifth year,” he said. “Some brains with tentacles tried to strangle me. My shoulder was from when we were hiding in the woods last year and we apperated and I splinched,” he said. 

Parvati frowned. “You see? How about you, Mandy?” She asked.

A girl from Ravenclaw called Mandy Brocklehurst frowned at her stomach. Her dark skin was decorated with bright pink slashes across her torso. “Mauled by a werewolf,” she said. “Fenrir Greyback. Don’t worry, I did some damage to him and his friends, though,” she told them with a grin. “But he, uh, he bit me. So… you won’t be seeing much of me during full moons.” Her friends touched her shoulders.

“Draco. What happened to you?” Parvati asked. 

He and Harry made eye contact. Harry pleaded him in his mind not to tell anyone. They didn’t need to know that Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, had sliced up a classmate for sobbing in a bathroom. “Is this your truth, Patil?” Draco asked. “Because as much as I’d love to strip for all of you, I don’t think you should waste your turn on this.” 

She shook her head. “No. I- no. I just want to say that… I’m proud of us. We fought in this war and we fought well, and I’m excited to keep fighting through the school year with you guys. Even if there are no bad guys this time,” she said. 

They gave her well-deserved applause and decided then would be a good time to say goodnight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you guys are enjoying this! I wrote these chapters ages ago so I'm rereading as I post and I'm honestly not incredibly proud of them. But I promise it gets better once we get into the juicy middle parts!   
> Thanks so much for reading!  
> Lily


	4. Keep Moving

Even after their conversation, Harry didn’t think Ron and Hermione were okay with his sexuality. Harry hated thinking about it. Not because he didn’t  _ want  _ to be gay, he quite honestly didn’t care. He just didn’t want all of the attention that went along with it. Or at least, he didn’t  _ think  _ he wanted the attention that went along with it. 

He could feel their eyes every time his pulled his arm out from behind Ginny’s waist or whenever he leaned in to kiss her lips, but instead, went for her forehead. It wasn’t that he was thinking about guys, it was just that after everything that had happened, he wanted Ginny as a sister. Not as a girlfriend. But he wasn’t quite sure how he should bring it up to them. He could tell Ginny was fading as well. She smiled at him because she was obligated to, not because the sight of him made her happy. Harry tried not to take it too personally. 

“Hey… should we talk?” Ginny finally asked one night in the library. 

“What about?” Harry asked, biting the nails off of his finger as he tried to focus on his potions homework. He just couldn’t think of the answer, and Malfoy was being no help. Every time Harry made an effort to do the work, Malfoy would snap at him and tell him to go be pretty somewhere else. But he said it in the most insulting voice he could muster. 

“Us,” Ginny said. She leaned back in the chair so the front two legs were off the ground. “I don’t think we’re happy like this.” 

Harry looked up. “It’s kind of hard to be happy when you’re doing potions homework.” 

Ginny grinned. “You know what I mean! It’s weird, isn’t it? Us being together? I think… I think we should stop. Being together,” she said, turning serious again. “I really like you, Harry, but I like you as my big brother. And being together kind of makes me feel gross. No offense.” 

“I feel the same way!” Harry said. 

Ginny smiled. “Great! So… I’m going to… leave now,” she said, gathering her stuff. 

“What? Got a hot date?” Harry asked. 

Her face flushed and her eyes flickered to the window behind him. “Something like that. I, erm, told Luna I’d meet her in Great Hall. She’s been a great friend to me lately, and I don’t want to let her down. See yah, Harry!” 

“Yeah, see yah!” He bent over his potions homework again and tangled his fingers in his hair. 

For a while, the library was nearly silent. It was a bit cool by the windows, but Harry tended to run a little warm. He sat alone until the sun disappeared and the moon began to peak over the mountainside. Still, he made no progress. 

“Need help, Potter?” A snarling voice asked. 

“Malfoy,” Harry said, looking up at the blonde git standing over him. “Actually, erm, I could use some help on the potions homework.” 

Draco smirked. “I could tell, idiot. You’ve been ripping out your own hair for nearly an hour,” he allowed himself to sit in the chair beside Harry. “We’ll make a deal- I’ll help you with your potions work, and you have to help me with… something else.” 

Harry’s heart froze. “What is it?” He asked.

Draco’s face turned less friendly and more threatening. “The Ministry is on my tail, if I’m being quite honest. The only reason I’m not in Azkaban is because they thought I could be of good use here. I’ve got a second trial over the holiday to determine… my final fate.” 

“Your final fate? What does that mean? You sound like you’re in a video game or something,” Harry said. 

“What the bloody hell is a videos game?” Malfoy muttered. “It  _ means,  _ Potter, that they will determine whether or not I am worthy of living as a free man. If not, I live and will die in Azkaban,” Draco answered softly. 

Harry paused for a minute. “So… you want me to defend you in your trial?” 

Malfoy scoffed. “Please, Potter. I could never invest that much trust into you. No. But if the Ministry sees me with you, they might think you’re being a positive role model and that I’m changing for the better. And… the wizarding world hasn’t been particularly kind to me for the past few months. It’s not just the Ministry. Much of my family fortune is gone, so I tried to get a job over the summer. No one would hire me. I couldn’t walk down the street without someone shouting at me. Maybe if people see me with the beloved Harry Potter, they might begin to trust me as well,” he explained, maintaining eye contact with Harry the entire time. “So, will you help me?” 

Harry gave him a polite smile. “Only if you’ll help me.” 

“Great. So we’ve got a deal?” 

“I’d say so,” Harry said. The boys shook hands and a shiver ran down Harry’s spine. It wasn’t necessarily a bad shiver, but it was there. “Why don’t we go down to Three Broomsticks tomorrow after class? You can help me with potions and someone’s bound to see us there.” 

Malfoy grinned. “You’ve got yourself a date, Potter,” he said. Before Harry had a chance to process this, Draco picked up his potions paper. “No, you’ve done this all wrong. I’ll show you.”

\--

Things were already different then, Draco observed. That night, they walked back to the common room together. Draco could’ve sworn he heard Harry mutter “G’night” as they got ready for bed. He was itching to tell Blaise about it, but he couldn’t do it until Arithmancy second block. Pansy would no doubt blabber about it if she overheard during breakfast and they had potions (with Potter!) first. 

“You’re unusually happy this morning,” Blaise commented. 

Draco bit his lip to keep from grinning and warmed his hands on his mug of tea. “Lovely morning,” he said. 

Judging by the ceiling of the Great Hall, it was  _ not  _ a lovely morning. Freezing rain thudded down on the roof of the school, and it was much too cold for a morning in September. The sky was dark with overlapping grey clouds and the sun was nowhere to be found. Draco used to find comfort in the dreary darkness. It was like the world urged him to sleep, and he was happier in his sleep. But now, that was not true. His sleep haunted him with dreams of everything he had done wrong, everything he regretted. It was okay, though. It really was. Because after every morning, he woke up and the dreams ended. What was done was done, and the only thing he could do now was be better in the present and future. 

That was something he had discussed with a therapist over the summer. He hadn’t even known there  _ were  _ wizard therapists until his mother ordered him to see one. The therapist was a frail, kind lady named Miss Charlotte. She told Draco that the past was in the past. Over and over again. She said it so many times, that Draco began to believe it. What happened had happened and there was no way for him to go back and change it now. The only thing left to do was to keep going. 

Another thing she taught him was that he couldn’t fix everything and that was  _ okay.  _ It was something Draco thought of a lot. He couldn’t fix decades of his family’s bias and hatred, but he could make up for it by spending time with his baby cousin, Teddy. He couldn’t change the way his father had raised him, but he could evolve into a better person without him. There were a million things he had done wrong, but there were a million things he could do to redeem himself. 

So, Draco couldn’t make the sun shine and the castle warm up that morning, but he  _ could  _ make the dreariness more cozy and hope for warmth tomorrow. 

“You’re staring at Harry,” Blaise said. “Something’s happened with him, hasn’t it?” 

“Later,” Draco said softly, sipping his tea. He let the warmth stretch down his throat and into his stomach, heating his entire body in the process. 

“You’re alright?” Blaise asked. 

“Never better.” 

Draco was relatively quiet on their walk to the dungeons for Potions. While they were still above ground, he stared out the windows and with every step, reminded himself there was nothing he could do to change it. But then again, there were things he  _ could  _ change. The public’s view of him, Harry’s potions grade. Those things weren’t going to change instantly, he had to keep moving and making subtle changes when he could. And he was going to be okay. 

And the first change was already about to take place. 

“Goodmorning, Potter,” Draco said, setting his bag down. 

Harry yawned and watched Draco with slightly baffled eyes. “Morning,” he said. “You seem… bright today.” 

“Someone’s got to make up for the weather. I heard you rolling around all night last night. You kept waking me up. Didn’t sleep well?” Draco asked calmly. 

“Something like that,” Harry grumbled. He scratched the back of his head in a way that made Draco’s heart thump in his chest. For once, it looked like Harry hadn’t even bothered to put his hair into its usual somewhat-updo. Instead, it flooded over his shoulders in a curly disaster and- was that _ syrup _ in it from breakfast? 

Draco quickly averted his eyes and bent over his bookbag. He took out a thermos and slid it over to Harry. “Caffeinated tea. It’s not really a wizard thing, but I discovered it over the summer and it cures exhaustion like magic,” he said. “I was saving it for myself, but it seems as though you need it more than I do.” 

“What’s wrong with it? Why are you being nice to me?” Harry asked. But he took the thermos regardless. 

“Nothing. I can’t have my student falling asleep on me, now can I?” 

The rest of the class went much smoother than it usually did. The tea seemed to brighten Harry up quite a bit. At least, enough that he wasn’t falling asleep all over the table. This time, Draco took his time, allowing Harry to do things on his own and explaining everything as they did it. He even caught Harry taking notes once or twice. It was absolute torture to have to watch Potter this early in the morning. He was so handsomely sleepy, the way he stuck out his chest with his arms in the air when he yawned, and how he scratched the back of his head, and how he smiled when he was too tired to come up with a witty comeback. He had thick dark whiskers that had sprouted across his chin and that he was too tired to shave, which he scratched every once in awhile. He had tied into some odd variation of a messy bun after Draco told him to keep his hair out of the open flame, but it was falling apart all over the place and kept having to push loose strands away.  He was a different kind of clumsy when he was tired. He wasn’t as heavy and reckless, more delicately sloppy. It was like a dance. A dance Draco never wanted to stop watching. 

“Shit, Malfoy, I just… spilt shit,” Harry said, yawning for the fiftieth time. 

“That’s alright. Just wipe it up,” Malfoy said calmly. As much as he disliked this weather, it did make him feel much calmer. 

“Are we going to have enough? Is the work space contaminated?” He asked. 

Malfoy shook his head and sighed. “It’s alright, Potter. Spell it clean and keep moving. It doesn’t do us well to dwell on our mistakes.”

Harry gave him that sleepy smile again. “That sounds like a Dumbledore comment.”

Draco tensed up a bit, but then he relaxed. Harry wasn’t thinking. He probably hadn’t realized that Dumbledore wasn’t a good topic to bring up between them. He was too sleepy to function. That, or he forgave Draco. He hoped it was the latter. 

When they finished, instead of cleaning up in silence, they divided it evenly and Draco concluded his thoughts on the potion and its results. Harry nodded along and took sloppy notes. He looped his Gs, Draco noticed. 

“We can go over this later at Three Broomsticks,” Draco said, peeking over his shoulder. “But that’s the basics. The toadstool is a little bit more complicated that what I’ve said, and it reacts differently when used before and after the snail, but you don’t have to know about that yet. Don’t forget your book and any homework tonight, I’ll help you with that, too,” he commented, making sure the tabletop was completely clean. 

“Thank you so much, Malfoy,” Harry said, looking a bit more lively. “For everything. For the tea, for the help, all of it. Sorry I’m so… out of it. This weather,” he yawned again, “this weather always seems to make me sleepy. That, and I didn’t sleep very well last night.” 

“That’s alright, you had no energy to fight with me.” 

They both laughed softly. Comfortably. 

Harry rubbed his chin. “Do you want to meet me in the common room after transfiguration? I’m just going to change out of my robes before we go. We can walk together.” 

A part of Draco’s heart lit up. “Yes, sounds good.” They exited the classroom side-by-side. “I’ve got Arithmancy. Goodbye, Potter.” 

“Later, Malfoy.” 

They turned their separate ways. Harry felt the thermos pressing against his leg through his bag. He had no intentions of returning it anytime soon. 

\--

“Harry!” Hermione shouted, running into the common room. 

Harry groaned. He had only  _ just  _ sat down after visiting Hagrid with Ron, he wasn’t in the mood to be rushed around by Hermione again. “What is it?” He asked, putting his feet up to demonstrate the universal sign of ‘I’m Not Moving’. 

“You’ve got a date with Malfoy tonight?” She asked. 

“A  _ what _ ?” Ron gasped. 

“He called it a date?” Harry demanded. 

Hermione’s cheeks flushed. “Well, no. He didn’t say that precisely,” she sighed and poised herself in the seat across from him. “I overheard him mentioning to Blaise that you and he were going to the Three Broomsticks tonight to study potions!” She hissed, her eyes flickering toward the door to make sure the blonde and his companion hadn’t entered the room yet. 

“Well, yeah,” Harry said. “He’s just helping me with potions. And he thinks that being seen with me will help him be trusted by the public.”

“And you’re  _ helping  _ him?” Ron asked. “You  _ agreed  _ to this?” 

Harry shrugged. “Why shouldn’t I? It doesn’t cause me any harm. I get a study partner and people will trust Malfoy. Sounds like a win-win to me. Maybe Malfoy will give the papers something to talk about other than me,” he said. 

“So he’s  _ not  _ ‘up to something’?” Ron asked in his mock-Harry voice. 

“Nah. He just doesn’t want to go to Azkaban. I still don’t understand the whole wont tell us what he regrets thing, though. He’s still got a lot he hasn’t told me about, but to be fair, we’ve only spoken like three times,” Harry rambled.

Ron suddenly gasped. “Oh, and another thing! You broke up with my sister?” 

Harry nodded. “Oh yeah. That was another thing you two missed last night when you were… bonding,” he said with a grin. But of his friends turned bright red. “Actually, I think she broke up with me. It just wasn’t working out between us. The feeling’s mutual.” 

“Harry, is this about… erm…” 

“No, Hermione, it’s not! Ginny and I just don’t feel romantically attracted to each other anymore! It’s not more complicated than that!” Harry said, almost shouting. 

Ron avoided eye-contact. “But, if it was, you’d tell us, right? I just- we’ll still be your best friends. And, erm, Charlie came out as gay the other day. And nothing has changed, right? So, just, don’t feel like you can’t… you can’t… talk to us. You know?” 

It was almost ridiculous. 

“Will you two  _ calm down _ ?” Harry asked, though clearly it was he who needed to calm down. “I don’t care about my sexuality right now! I don’t care if I’m straight or gay or whatever! It doesn’t matter to me! I don’t care! But as soon as I do, you guys will be the first people I come to, alright? I swear, you’re more concerned with my sexuality than I am! It’s not a big deal right now. It hasn’t been for eight years, so why should it be one now?” 

Ron grinned and leaned back. “I  _ told  _ you that’s what he was going to say!” 

Hermione flushed. “I know, it’s just… I can’t help but worry about you, Harry.” 

“Well, don’t! I have it under control, Hermione. I don’t care!” 

“Hey, mate, calm down,” Ron said, slipping his arm around Hermione. “We know. It’s fine. You don’t have to think about it if you don’t want to.”

Harry sighed. “Sorry.” he grumbled. Of course he didn’t want to think about it, but he did anyway. “I just… I like  _ people _ ,” Harry said. “I liked Ginny because she was funny and sweet and pretty. I liked Cho Chang because she was nice to me and I thought she looked nice. Gender didn’t really have anything to do with it. And it’s just kind of frustrating that you guys keep zeroing on the ‘liking girls’ or ‘liking guys’. I like people. Think about it. I’ve just got to keep moving.” His cheeks began to heat up when he realized he was quoting Malfoy.

Hermione smiled. She looked satisfied. “Now, that wasn’t too hard? Was it?” She asked. “You’re bisexual.” 

Harry shook his head. “Sure, call it what you want, but you’re making it about gender again. It’s just… not like that. It’s about people. It’s about personalities.” He looked up at Hermione, who still seemed like she wasn’t grasping the concept. Harry sighed. “Look, I grew up with the Dursley’s, right? They raised me to believe that all individuality is bad and that only one type of person should exist, but I knew that was wrong. So how can you expect me to love only one type of person? It doesn’t matter if a person is magic or a muggle, if they’re tall or short, if they’re a boy or a girl, or none of the above. If I like their personality, nothing else matters. You’re making it a big deal and it’s not! This is the way I am, and this is the way I always have been. I like people.” 

There were a few moments before anyone of them spoke. “I get it,” Ron said, finally. 

Hermione sighed. “I don’t!” She said, almost in agony. 

“Stop trying to define it,” Ron said. “It’s not black and white. It’s not gay, it’s not straight, it’s just Harry. And it doesn’t really matter. It’s  _ his  _ business who he likes, not ours. Like he said. He’s just got to keep moving and like who he likes on the way.”

Harry grinned. He felt an even deeper appreciation for Ron. He couldn’t have said it any better himself. It wasn’t gay, it wasn’t straight, it was Harry, and it was no one’s business but his.

“You’re right,” Hermione muttered. “I might not get it, but there’s nothing I can do but accept it, right?” She asked. 

“Thanks,” Harry said. “So this means you’ll stop bothering me about it?” 

“Of course,” Hermione said. 

It was just Harry. And he didn’t mind it one bit. 

\--

After transfiguration, Harry ran up into his room to get changed. He put on his jeans, a grey t-shirt, and a brown jacket because it was a bit cold out. He quickly shoved his potions stuff into his bookbag, sighed at his hair in the mirror, and then jogged down stairs.

Draco was waiting, looking bored, by the door. He had stayed in his uniform, ditching the green tie and the outermost layer of robes in favor of a green cardigan. “Ready, Potter?” He asked. 

“Aren’t you going to be cold?” Harry asked. 

Draco shrugged. “It’s always warm in Three Broomsticks,” he said. Together, they wandered out of the common room and into the corridor. 

“So… do pureblood wizards wear robes, like, all the time?” Harry asked. 

“Do muggles wear t-shirts all the time?” 

“Yes.” 

Draco smiled. “Then yes.” 

Harry bit his lip in frustration. “Isn’t uncomfortable to be so dressed up all the time? Do you only own formal clothes?” He asked. 

Draco thought for a moment. “I have a lot of sweaters. And bed clothes. Have you ever tried to sleep in robes? I almost stabbed myself with the collar one time. Not all robes are like the school ones, though. These ones are a bit trashy, if I do say so. My regular ones are much nicer.” 

“You have to wear them even in the summer?” Harry asked. “Ron’s family doesn’t really wear them, but they like the muggle lifestyle.” 

“Is this what goes on in the mind of the Great Harry Potter?” Draco asked. 

Harry’s cheeks glowed, despite the cold. “Yes. What do you think about?” He asked.

“Cats, mostly.” 

“Oh! I never knew the evil Draco Malfoy was a crazy cat lady!” Harry said, faking a gasp. “What will the Daily Prophet say when they hear about this? ‘Malfoy Hoards Fifty Cats As He Slowly Creeps Into Insanity’.” They both laughed. 

“‘Meanwhile, Harry Potter Is Yet To Discover What Pureblood Families Wear When They Aren’t Wearing Robes!’” 

They laughed all the way to the Three Broomsticks, where they found a table in the center of the room and began to study. It was central enough that they could easily be seen, but so many people sat around them that it would be impossible for anyone else to hear their conversation. Draco had been right, it was very warm and it made Harry’s brown cheeks glow a nice pink. Draco, who was more of a cold person by nature, wasn’t affected by the warmth. 

Harry took out his books and jotted down notes as Draco spoke. Sometimes, he would pause so Harry could catch up or take his paper to see what he had written or to draw a diagram. 

“So, here are the three stages,” Draco snatched the quill out of Harry’s hand. “First, it’s normal, right? Then, it turns purple with the spots, and  _ then  _ it dissolves into the potion. Usually, it produces soothing results, but when used with dried horns, it can cause anxiety,” he said, scribbling down the diagram. 

“Are you an artist?” Harry asked, glancing at the extremely detailed drawing of a mushroom dissolving into a cauldron. 

Draco smiled and handed the quill back. “Not really. I mostly just draw for my mother’s birthday gifts.” 

“I think you’re wonderful,” Harry said, examining the drawing. “So, if it reacts with  _ any  _ type of horn, it causes anxiety?” He asked. 

“Not exactly. The horn has to be dried. And hippogriff blood can dull the anxiety-inducing qualities in the horns. So, say you need the horns for their mass, but you’re trying to make a sleeping potion, so you need the calming qualities of the mushrooms. You can use a tiny bit of hippogriff blood to tone down the dried horns, but the blood has to be added before the dried horns and the mushrooms after the horns. You should be writing this down! It might be on N.E.W.Ts.” 

Harry nodded and began to scribble. “So, in sixth year, there were notes in my book telling me how to make potions. How am I still bad at potions if the instructions are right in front of me?” 

“Anyone can read a set of instructions,” Draco said, gesturing to the book. “You’ve got to know what ingredients you’re using and why. What do they do? What’s their purpose? That’s what I’m trying to teach you right now. Once you know that, you can add more or less to enhance the strength, the effect, and the shelf-life of a potion,” he explained. 

Harry’s hand was sore from writing. “Can we take a break for a few minutes? I think my hand is going to fall off.” 

Draco grinned. “Sure. I’m going to get myself another butterbeer. Want one?” He asked.

Harry nodded and bent over his notes, rereading them and making sure he had everything right. He had learned more with Malfoy in 45 minutes than he had in 7 years of potions class. Things were coming together and making sense like they never had before. He let his gaze fall to Malfoy, who was leaning on the bar, ordering. He was tall and lean, but not in the lanky way Harry had been when he was little. He was graceful, not too tall that his pants were too short, but the perfect impossible height. 

“Excuse me, Mr. Potter,” someone asked, tapping on Harry’s shoulder. 

“Erm, hello,” Harry said, facing a stout old man in navy blue robes. “May I help you?” Harry asked. 

The man grinned from ear to ear. “First of all, thank you so much, sir, for everything you’ve done! You’re a real hero, Mr. Potter. But, erm, I couldn’t help but notice you’re here with that Malfoy bloke. I’ve been hearing bad things about him, sir Mr. Potter. Are you okay? Has he confounded you?” 

Anger filled Harry from the toes to the tip of his head. “I’m excellent, thank you,” he snarled. Draco approached nervously with two glasses of butterbeer. “Draco’s being very nice and helping me with potions. I’m having a great time, I don’t think I’ve ever learned this much before,” Harry said. The man looked at the floor. “So, if you excuse me, I think I’ll get back to studying with Draco. Why don’t you go mind your business?” He asked. The man scurried away and Harry turned back to Draco, who slid him a glass. “What are you smirking about?” 

Draco bit his lip. “Nothing, I just don’t think I’ve ever heard you say my first name before… Harry.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!   
> Exciting chapter, huh?   
> Rereading it, I almost felt like they moved too fast but after years of pining, I think it's fitting.   
> I meant to post yesterday but I was too busy being a slab of gelatin. I have my first horse show tomorrow so I meant to get all of my homework done yesterday so I could spend today prepping, but guess who spent the day on her phone instead? (Hint: It's me). But I also drew a present for my Papa's birthday and if you want to see it, check out my insta (an_actual_flower). I'm not going to post any Drarry stuff on it but there will be dog pictures.   
> Thanks for reading! This is already getting a ton of attention!  
> Thanks again!  
> Lily


	5. Together

The weeks passed and the castle began to get colder and colder. It didn’t take long for the eighth years to realize that even with all of the fires burning in the common room, it was still freezing. Plus, the smell of burning owl poop from the fireplaces and owlrey above them was all but appealing. Pajama study parties became the new normal. Everyone changed into bedclothes after class, dragged their blankets downstairs, and did their homework in the warmth of the fires. 

The group had never gotten along this well. Every Friday, it became a tradition for them to do an ‘eighth year bonding activity’ together. The first week, the Gryffindors threw a party. The second week, the Ravenclaws lead a study group (no one was excited about it, but no one was complaining about free homework help). The third, a boy from Hufflepuff taught them all how to draw the dragon crest that hung in the center of the common room and the fourth, the Slytherins organized a Quidditch match- Slytherin and Hufflepuff against Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. They never really knew who won. Once all of the houses had had their night, they played truth or dare again, though with slightly different rules. From now on, there would be no talk about the war. Just wholesome fun together. 

Harry’s meetings with Draco at the Three Broomsticks also became something of tradition. Every Monday and Thursday, they met at the entrance of the common room and walked together. And every Monday and Thursday, someone made a point to check on Harry and make sure he was in his right mind for hanging out with Draco. And every Monday and Thursday, Harry defended him. 

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” Draco said on their walk back to the castle one night. A particularly loud woman had gone farther than any of the others and tried to lock Harry in the bathroom ‘for his own safety’ while she pinned Draco to a table. Luckily, Harry wasn’t stupid and didn’t find it difficult to unlock a door and rescue Draco. 

“What? Save you from crazies?” Harry asked. 

Draco scoffed. “Defend me. I can fight my own battles.” 

“Why fight your own battles when I can fight them for you?” 

“You and your hero complex,” Draco grumbled. Harry had no idea what Draco was talking about. The moon illuminated his blonde hair, making it seem like he had a silver aura protecting him from the night. “Have you read the Daily Prophet lately?” Harry shook his head. Draco pulled a rolled up newspaper out of his bag and handed it to Harry. “It’s working. People are talking about us, alright.” 

It wasn’t the first page, but on the second was a picture of Harry laughing as Draco tried to demonstrate an explosion with his arms waving around in the air. Harry wrote notes as he laughed and Draco watched Harry’s face. It was a nice photo, really. The caption was ‘Hero of the Wizarding World and Youngest Malfoy Are Friends?’. Harry’s heart sank. This was going to be good. 

 

_ We all know and love Harry Potter, the boy who lived, our hero, our savior. In July, Mr. Potter and his cohorts were invited to return to Hogwarts for their eighth and final year. Of course, he accepted this invitation, but he wasn’t the only one.  _

_ Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort’s right hand man, also decided to attend Hogwarts for his eighth year. In the trials of July, the Ministry of Magic decided he would go to Hogwarts to pursue his education and return for a follow-up trial during his winter holiday. If Malfoy proves to have changed since his war ways, he will be permitted to be a free man. If not, he will join his father in Azkaban.  _

_ But after everything that has happened between Potter and his foe, Malfoy, their relationship seems to have changed.  _

_ I was enjoying a nice drink on a chilly night at the Three Broomsticks, when I noticed Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter entering together, talking like old friends.  _

_ “They come twice a week every week,” Rosmerta, the owner of the bar, said. “Eighth years are allowed to come to Hogsmeade when they don’t have class. Potter and Malfoy come two times a week to study. I’ve watched them become great friends over the past few weeks! They’re very sweet. The poor boys get a lot of shite from some of the people here.”  _

_ I asked her what she meant, and she gestured to the table at which the boys were seated. An old man had his wand drawn and was attempting to curse Malfoy. Potter stepped in in the knick of time and forced the man away.  _

_ “Draco is my friend!” He shouted. “He can’t help what he did in the past, but he can be a better person now, and that’s exactly what he’s doing! Draco’s ten times the man you are! So, leave us alone!”  _

_ Malfoy did not seem entirely thankful for Harry’s heroic actions.  _

_ “This happens every day they come,” Rosmerta said sadly. “Someone tries to ‘save’ Harry from Draco, when neither of them really want to be saved.”  _

_ “If they cause this much trouble in public, why don’t they keep their meetings on the school grounds?” I asked.  _

_ Rosmerta shrugged. “I think Harry wants people to see him in public with Draco. I have to say, at first, I definitely didn’t trust old Malfoy’s boy. But seeing them laughing and studying together has changed my view. People can change. I honestly think Draco has recognized his faults and is attempting to make amends. They pretend to hate each other, they do. It’s silly. They make fun of eachother and tease each other, but it’s obvious that they’re very close friends.”  _

_ Before I could question them, both boys left.  _

 

Harry sighed and handed the paper back to Draco. “Well, people are talking alright,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road. It was a bit creepy in the dark, but Harry hadn’t been afraid of anything in a long time. 

“They are,” Draco said, tucking the paper into his bag. “This issue is from this morning, so I don’t think a lot of people have seen it yet, but when they do…” 

“Let them. It’s not a secret,” Harry said, kicking up rocks as he walked. 

“Yeah, but what will they think? The way Rosmerta talked about us…” 

Harry looked up at him. “She said it the way it is. We’re friends and you’re not an asshole who wants to take over the world anymore.” 

Draco wasn’t sure which part he wanted to think about, the friends or the asshole. “I never was an asshole who wanted the take over the world. I was lonely, I was jealous of you, and I only got anything because of my father,” he paused. “I want… I wanted to do something for myself for once. I wanted to do something without his help. And at first, that was… killing Dumbledore. The Dark Lord put his trust in me to do something with help from no one. But I didn’t really  _ want  _ to. And I still had help, from Snape. So this year, I decided I would do something on my own. And I did.” 

“You befriended me,” Harry said. 

“Yes. It’s not quite like I had expected,” Draco muttered. 

“What do you mean?” 

Draco grinned. “Well, you’re not as great as the world makes you seem, no offense. I thought I was befriending the Great Harry Potter. Superhero, boy genius, heartthrob for middle age witches everywhere. But I really was befriending… just Harry.”

Harry  nodded. “Yeah. Thank you,” he said. 

“Is that sarcasm?” 

The dark haired boy laughed. “No! Thank you for befriending just Harry. It feels good. All of these people watching me, you know? Wondering ‘what’s the next amazing thing Harry Potter is going to do?’. Sometimes, it’s nice just… being bad at potions. For once in my life, I don’t have to worry about  _ anything  _ other than my potions grade and what I want to do- what I want to  _ be _ when we leave this place. I finally get to be just Harry, and you and Ron and Hermione, you guys are the only people who really have let me do that.”

Draco nodded. “You’re welcome. And thank  _ you  _ for… accepting me so easily.” 

Harry smiled. “I’ve never heard you say ‘thank you’ before.” 

Draco shoved his shoulder. “Yeah, well don’t get used to it, Potter.” 

\--

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Ron commented at breakfast the next morning. 

Harry had a grin plastered to his face that he couldn’t seem to get rid of. “It’s working,” he said. “There was an article about me and Malfoy in the Daily Prophet yesterday. It’s working! People are talking. And, I actually understood something in potions!” 

“That’s great, Harry!” Hermione said. 

“You guys are coming to the Burrow for the holiday, right?” Ron asked, shoving a letter into his bookbag. “Mum said the remodeling is going great. Dad’s getting paid a load more, now that he’s respected and all, so they can afford to have enough rooms for all of the kids.” The Burrow had been beaten to the point of exhaustion during the battle. One day, it just all collapsed. Harry was happy to house everyone in Grimmauld Place while it was being rebuilt, but there was no where near enough room. Luckily, during the school year, it was just Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. George had gone back to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, Charlie went back to Romania, Percy got his own apartment, and Bill stayed with Fleur at Shell Cottage. 

Hermione sighed. “I’m sorry, Ron, I can’t. I promised my parents I would spend it with them. They’re still a little… frazzled,” she said. She had found them after they had moved to Australia, but  restoring their memories had been a little harder. Most of them came back, but they were still a little confused about magic and on top of that, were furious at Hermione for erasing their memories. Harry couldn’t imagine what it was like to have a family… and then purposely lose them for their own protection. He didn’t know if he would have been able to be that selfless. 

“I’ll be there,” Harry said. He hadn’t realized the holidays were coming up that fast. Wasn’t it just the first day of school a week ago? With no problems to solve, time was moving too quickly. 

“Excellent,” Ron said. He quickly scribbled a response on a scrap piece of parchment and sent his owl away into the brooding clouds. 

“Potter!” Malfoy shouted from the other side of the eighth year table. 

Harry frowned and leaned forward to see him. “What is it?” He shouted back.  

Now, the entire table was quiet, listening to their conversation. It didn’t stop Draco from yelling his response. “I have something to tell you in potions!” He shouted, waving a letter in his hand. 

“Tell me now!” Harry yelled back. 

“No, you impatient git!”

Pansy hit her fork on the side of her goblet, so everyone turned their attention to her and not the bickering boys. “Just kiss already!” She said, once she had everyone’s attention. It had been much funnier the first time. 

Harry huffed and leaned back. He wanted to crawl under the table so no one could see how bright his cheeks had gotten. “I hate her,” he snarled. Ron didn’t respond, he was too busy trying not to spray toast all over the table from laughing. 

\--

“What is it?” Harry asked when he got to potions. 

Draco grinned. “Liked Pansy’s little gag, did you?” he asked. “I keep telling her to stop, but ever since she found out about our study sessions, she’s been teasing me mercilessly. Be a dear and grab me several more of these vials. I have the feeling we’re going to need it,” he said, swirling around a clear vial of a violet transparent liquid with flower petals drifting around in it. 

“First tell me what you were shouting about at breakfast.” 

The blonde sighed and tied his hair back. Harry hadn’t noticed his hair was down in the first place, but he almost wished he had. Still, two strands fell out of the tie and framed Draco’s face. “Go get the vial, Potter.”

Harry tossed his book down onto the table and marched to the other side of the room, where the vials stood in a row. He knew he looked childish, but he didn’t care. He grabbed two of them and stormed back. “ _ Now  _ tell me,” he said. 

“Smell the potion, Potter.” 

Harry held the vial up to his nose. Instantly, everything began to relax. He hadn’t realized how much tension there was in his shoulders until it all was released. Even his eyelids began to droop a it. “What- what is this?” He asked, snapping back to reality. 

Draco smirked. “You tell me. Transparent purple, flower petals in it. What does it smell like?” 

He sniffed the vial again. “Lavender. Enchanted lavender extract,” he said,  slowly picturing the vial Draco had drawn in Harry’s notes. “But if it’s so strong that it’s calming just from smelling it, why do we need so much?” He asked. 

“You know why,” Draco said, squinting at the instructions on the board in the front of the classroom. 

Harry racked his brain for the reason, but he was still a bit drowsy. He yawned. 

Draco smiled to himself. “The scent is more powerful than the extract itself. But seeing as we’re using the roots of a toadstool, what will happen?” 

“The scent will be dulled, right?” Harry asked. 

“Correct. So we’re going to use twice as much extract as the recipe recommends. Why do you think we’re using the roots of a toadstool?” 

“They have healing properties, but very faint ones. They’re mostly used for dulling toxic fumes, right?” Harry asked. Draco nodded, still smiling. “What are we making?” 

Draco pointed at the board. “Sleeping drought. The user will fall into a cleansing, dreamless sleep. The toadstool roots heal all of the minor aches and pains while the user of the drought is in a stage of complete rest. The lavender extract soothes the body and the mind. Then, there are a few other ingredients to stop dreams from coming and to make sure your body does all of the things it needs to do whilst asleep. Possible side effects include severe exhaustion, comas, frequent blackouts, and a strange urge to do yoga.” 

“Excellent, Mr. Malfoy,” Slughorn said, wandering up to their table. “15 points to eighth years. You two have been doing spectacularly lately. Very good job!” He turned his attention to Harry. “I know this is your mother shining through you, my boy. I can see her in your eyes.” His own eyes began to tear up. 

“Actually, sir, Draco’s been helping me,” Harry said. 

Slughorn shook his head. “I know your mother when I see her, Harry,” he said before wandering away again. 

“Old coop. He hates me,” Draco grumbled. 

Harry laughed. “You’re one of his best students  _ and  _ a Slytherin. Why would he hate you?” He asked. 

“What, you mean beside the fact I’m a manifestation of his greatest regrets?”

“Don’t talk like that,” Harry said. “What do you mean?” 

“Never mind,” Draco said. “So, erm, about what I wanted to tell you this morning. Aunt Andromeda sent me a letter this morning. She’s ill and she needs to go to Saint Mungo’s for two  days for treatment over winter break. She wanted to know if you and I could watch Teddy, just for those two days,” he explained. 

Harry frowned. “Don’t you have your trial?” He asked. 

“They day after,” Draco muttered. He wouldn’t meet Harry’s eyes, he focused on the bit of unicorn hoof dust that he was making into a putty. 

“Yeah, I’ll watch Teddy!” Harry said. He’d spend as much time with his godson as he could. His godfather, Sirius, hadn’t been able to spend much time with Harry. He was in prison for a crime he didn’t commit for most of Harry’s life, and he died much too soon. Harry refused to have the same relationship with his godson. 

“Right. I’ll write her after class,” Draco said softly. His voice was strange, Harry couldn’t place whether he was feeling relaxed or uncomfortable. “Have you seen him lately?” He asked. 

“Not since the summer,” Harry said. 

Draco smiled sadly and pulled a picture out of his bag. “Aunt Andromeda sent me this last week,” he said, handing Harry the photograph. 

It featured a small boy, no older than one, with piercing blue hair. It was very fluffy, growing out of his head like a thick patch of blue grass and falling over his face. He pushed himself up with his chubby baby legs and ran for a few steps before falling down and giggling. It warmed Harry’s heart, and he never wanted to give the picture back. 

He look over at Draco, who was watching the picture and smiling. 

“What?” Draco asked when he noticed Harry staring. 

Harry turned his attention back to the photograph. “You have the same nose.” 

Draco laughed. A flock of unruly butterflies took flight in Harry’s torso, making their way from the base of his stomach to his chest. “Keep the picture, Potter. We should start working before Slughorn thinks his favorite student is slacking off.” 

“I’m not sure if you meant me or you.” 

“I meant your mother.” 

Harry grinned and opened his notebooks, preparing to take notes as he and Draco worked. They didn’t really have to speak as they handed each other various vials and materials, working as a team. For once, Harry didn’t have any questions to ask and Draco did have to explain his every move. Their fingertips brushed and neither of them flinched. They bumped shoulders softly, they moved around the table like a dance routine. And finally, Harry understood potions.

He froze when the realization came to him. It wasn’t just potions. It was the dance routine. It was not flinching when he accidentally laid his hand on top of Draco’s when they both reached for the same stirring stick. It was the Daily Prophet article, still fresh in Harry’s mind. 

Draco paused, noticing Harry’s frozen figure. A pause in the dance. Good thing both boys were known to be dramatic. A smile stretched across Draco’s lips. 

“Do you want to do something tonight?” Harry finally asked. 

“And blow off the eighth year bonding session? I hear we’re having a painting class from the Hufflepuffs tonight,” Draco chuckled. He looked smug. Almost too smug. “Besides, you’re doing well. I hardly think you need an extra study session.”

Harry sighed. “Tomorrow night then. Not to study. To- erm,” Harry racked his mind for an excuse to hang out with Draco, “to go Christmas present shopping. I’ve got to get something for Ron and Hermione and Teddy. I need your help. We can eat somewhere other than Three Broomsticks for a change.” 

“Oh, you’re right! I’m sure a lot of people will be out and about this close to the holidays. They’re bound to see us,” Draco said. 

“Well, yes. But I just wanted to…” Harry stopped speaking. 

“To buy presents for your friends. I get it,” Draco said, still looking unreasonably smug. “Sure, I’ll come with you.” 

Part of Harry wanted to say ‘ _ Great! It’s a date! _ ’, but part of him was still stuck on the smug look on Draco’s face, and the fact he only wanted to do it so people would see them together. Did they really have to make excuses to hang out together? Harry fumbled for the first time, spilling a bit of extract over the table. 

To his surprise, Draco grinned. “Calm down, Potter. I hardly think a night out with me is a reason to go spilling things all over the place.” 

Harry couldn’t find it in him to tell Draco to shut up as he cleaned up the mess. 

\--

“We’ve got a problem,” Harry breathed to Hermione and Ron at the dinner table. 

“What is it?” Hermione asked, nearly jumping out of her seat. Ron put a hand on her shoulder to calm her. 

Harry’s eyes ran up and down the table. Draco and his companions were sitting a little too close. They would be able to hear Harry’s every word if they tried hard enough. “Not now,” Harry hissed. 

“Oh, come  _ on,  _ mate, you can’t do that to us!” Ron said. 

“Fine! Come on,” Harry said. He grabbed his bag and stood up. Ron looked wearily at Hermione and they grabbed their things and followed him out the door. Harry scanned the hallway before saying anything. “Okay, the coast is clear. It’s about Draco,” he said, almost at a whisper. 

Ron moaned. “Harry, if you’ve made me leave my dinner because you think Malfoy is ‘up to something’, I’m going to kill you!” He shouted. 

“Ron! Keep quiet! Someone could hear-” Harry muttered. 

“Oh, no! Not this again!” Ron wailed again. He started to turn around and head back to the Great Hall, but Harry grabbed his shoulder to stop him.

“Sh! It’s not that!” Harry said in attempt to quiet him. “It’s- it’s something else,” he said softly. The corridors were empty, luckily, and they were able to traverse through with ease. 

Hermione gasped. “You haven’t gotten into a fight with him, have you? Oh, Harry! Things were going so well between you. I thought- I thought you were going to be great friends,” she rambled, covering her mouth with her hand in shock. 

Harry sighed. “No, it’s not that either! Now will you two be quiet already so I can tell you?” He asked. He hadn’t meant to snap at them, but they were quiet nonetheless. “He said Tonks’ mum is getting a treatment over the holiday and she wanted to know if Draco and I could watch Teddy for two days. So I said yes. And then, we were working together in potions, and it was going so well. He showed me a picture of Teddy learning to walk and I helped make the potions and everything was going so perfectly right. And I- and I-” he paused and took a deep breath. “I realized something,” he said. 

“Well? What was it?” Hermione asked. 

“I- I’ve got a crush on Malfoy,” Harry spat. The words sounded strange and unfamiliar in his mouth. Hermione and Ron were silent. “I’ve got a crush on him, and so I asked him to go out with me tomorrow night. I told him I needed his help Chirstmas shopping and he thought it was just because a lot of people would be holiday shopping and would see us out together. But it’s not. I just wanted to… be with him,” Harry said. 

The trio was silent as they climbed the staircase leading to the common room. No one had said where they were going, but it seemed their feet had already decided. 

Ron was the first to speak. “ Bloody hell, mate! We’re your friends. You’re supposed to tell us this stuff  _ before  _ you go and make stupid decisions!” 

“What do you mean?” Harry asked. 

“He  _ means  _ you should’ve told us you liked Draco and he asked you to watch Teddy with him before you said yes!” Hermione shrieked. “How do you suppose you’re going to watch Teddy when you’re too  _ infatuated  _ with Draco! And Christmas shopping?  _ Really.  _ I understand you needed an excuse, but you should’ve made sure he knew your intentions. Have you even told him you wanted it to be a date?” She asked. 

“Well… no,” Harry muttered. 

“Oh, Harry, you really are hopeless,” Hermione said, shaking her head as if it were the end of the world. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys soooooo much for your outstanding support! I'm overjoyed that you guys are liking this! Some of you have even come over from my other works, Our Kid (post-war adult Harry and Draco with an interesting dilemma when they have to work together both at the ministry and as parents), and Forgotten (a short story in which Harry proposes to Draco and all is magical, until he forgets it happened). I'm so glad you liked them enough to come back for more!!  
> Once again, thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy this chapter, some heavy ones are coming up!  
> Lily


	6. Just

Harry watched the snow lightly fall over the castle. The dormitory was empty aside from Harry and Ron, who sat by the window. Draco and Blaise had gone into Goyle’s room to help him clean or something, Harry hadn’t really paid attention. Except for when Draco told him he’d be back in thirty minutes and they could leave. For their date. That Draco didn’t know was a date.

“Come on, mate, it’ll be alright,” Ron said in a half-hearted attempt at soothing Harry’s nerves. “At least if it’s not a date, you can’t really screw it up, right?” He asked. 

“You’re right,” Harry said, but his chest told him he was lying. 

The door swung open and Draco entered, followed by Blaise. “You ready, Potter?” Draco asked. He began to unbutton his uniform shirt. Harry prayed his cheeks weren’t as pink as he thought they were. Draco grabbed a sweater from the trunk in front of his bed and pulled it over his head. This one was a deep maroon, a much different color from the dark green Harry was accustomed to seeing him in. 

“Erm, yeah,” Harry said suddenly. He grabbed his coat, a simple black ski jacket, and got to his feet. Draco grabbed his own floor-length jacket and held the door open for Harry to exit through. 

They quietly exited the castle and onto the dimly lit road, covered in white snow. It looked like someone had sprinkled powdered sugar over the town of Hogsmeade. Little snowflakes clung to Harry’s jacket and got trapped in his eyelashes. 

Draco watched him with amusement has he wiped a particularly large one off his nose. “Famous Harry Potter can’t even keep little snowflakes from clinging to him,” he commented, wiping one off of Harry’s shoulder. 

Harry laughed. “Draco Malfoy is so cold, even snowflakes avoid him,” he said. 

“I’m actually quite warm in this jacket,” Draco said, grinning. “Where to first? Who do you need gifts for?” He asked. 

“Erm, I was thinking we could get something to eat first,” Harry said. “If you haven’t eaten already. Oh- you haven’t. You weren’t at dinner. Not that I noticed. I just-” 

“The Great Harry Potter is nervous, huh?” Draco asked, grinned. “What’s the matter?” He asked. 

Harry took a deep breath. “Nothing. I’m just… generally anxious.” 

“Generally anxious?” 

“Yeah.”

“About what?” Draco asked. 

“I dunno,” Harry muttered. “I guess because I don’t know. I’m anxious and I don’t know why and it’s making me more anxious. We’re friends, right? I’ve got no reason to be anxious. You’re just… Draco.” 

Draco smiled at the snow covered ground. “And you’re just Harry. Maybe you’re still nervous that I’m plotting to kill you.” There was a silence. “Don’t worry. I’m not. Plotting to kill you. I’m a bit anxious myself, to tell you the truth- I haven’t got time to worry about killing you.” 

“You’ve got a reason to anxious!” Harry said, ignoring the death threat. “You’ve got your trial coming up. But… if I need to, Draco, I’ll testify for you. I swear. I know you’re not going to kill me. I don’t know if you’ve changed or if we’re just on the same side for once, but I know you shouldn’t be in Azkaban with your father. It’s his fault everything happened to you, not yours,” he said. They entered a very casual pub, the warm air making Harry’s cheeks glow in comparison to the bitter cold. 

“Two, please,” Draco told a waitress, who then lead them to a table toward the back of the pub. Harry had never been here before, it was new. A portion of Hogsmeade had been destroyed in the war, taking some of Harry’s fondest memories with it, but allowing for new establishments and new memories to take the place of the old ones. It was as if Hogsmeade was following Draco’s mantra- it couldn’t change that it had hosted dementors and death eaters in the past, but it could open new, welcoming businesses in the present. The pub was relatively empty for a Saturday night, though most tables were full. The bar was empty aside from one or two people, and a busy, yet tame, song played over the speakers. It was warm, a fireplace roared on the other side of the room. Harry and Draco were forced to sit so close to avoid bumping into other tables, that Harry could feel the warmth radiating off of Draco’s knees. His palms began to get a bit sweaty and he wiped them on his jeans. His hair was like a heavy blanket on his neck, so he tied it up quickly. 

Another effect of the war was muggle technology being further introduced into the wizarding world. All of the buildings in Hogsmeade now ran on actual electric heat, though many still used fireplaces for the aesthetic. Harry’s chair was situated over a heating vent, making him uncomfortably warm. Hogwarts, of course, had not known to pick up on this trend and still relied on its’ enchanted fireplaces to keep its inhabitants warm. They only worked some of the time. 

Harry’s eyes scanned over the menu. It was a mixture of both classic wizard and muggle foods. It was a bit of a shock to him, he wasn’t used to the wizarding and muggle worlds mingling so closely. Hogwarts hung tightly onto its magical roots, and Harry had always belong to two worlds. The magic, and the non-magic. There was no inbetween. 

Draco made a face, flipping the menu over. “I’ve never heard of some of this stuff,” he muttered as the table next to them was served a whole head of some magical creature. Harry’s mind instantly went to Hagrid, and what he would say if he saw it.

“It’s muggle stuff,” Harry said. “I suppose with magic mixed in.” 

“Like potions,” Draco said, though his discomfort was still present. 

Harry chuckled. “Sure. Just, don’t order anything that sounds like it could eat you back and we’ll be good,” he said with another glance at the head on the other table. 

“The beast,” Draco said, under his breath. 

“Excuse me?” Harry asked. 

Draco grinned. “Nothing. It’s just from this muggle novel I’ve been reading. My mother wanted  me to experience muggle literature and what not. It’s a bit different from wizard literature. We tend to target facts and saying what we mean, while muggles like to use symbolism and what not. It’s quite interesting, really” he said. His face flushed when he realized he was rambling. “Anyway, it’s called  _ Lord of the Flies  _ and it’s about a bunch of little boys who are dumped on an island alone. I don’t want to spoil it for you, but at one point, they cut off a pig’s head and mount it on a stick as a sacrifice to an imaginary beast.” 

Harry’s smile lit up his face. “You sound like Hermione,” he said. 

“Sorry. That was boring,” Draco averted his eyes and went back to scanning his menu. 

“Not at all. I think you and Hermione could really get along if you tried,” Harry commented. “She’s interested in muggle stuff, too. You two could have a little book club or something.” 

Draco scoffed. “After everything I’ve done to her? I’m lucky she’s only punched me once!” 

Harry shook his head. “No way. She’d love someone to talk to about that stuff. Ron isn’t exactly an avid reader, and I can never keep up with half of what she’s saying. You guys could have a lot to teach each other. You know, wizard and muggle culture and whatnot.” 

“Potter, I’m afraid I’m about to do something out of the ordinary again.” 

“What?” 

“Thank you. For letting me be just Draco.” 

They ate their dinner laughing and talking like they always did, but something was different. Draco couldn’t ignore the fluttering feeling every time Potter did something stupid like pull his hair out of its bun just to put it back up again, or when his entire body froze every time Potter’s knee bumped into his (which happened quite often- curse this stupid tiny table!). Dinner had been an awful idea. But it was stupendous. Draco ordered a weird pie thing that wasn’t really a pie, but Harry had insisted. And Draco was ashamed to admit this stupid muggle food (what was it called? Pastor’s pie? Farmer’s pie?) was his new favorite. He loved it so much, he couldn’t even be mad when Harry stole one bite. And then a second bite (SHEPHERD'S PIE. That was it. Ridiculous name for some ground beef with potatoes on top, but delicious nonetheless). 

After that, they wandered the streets of Hogsmeade, hopping into any open shop they could find, more for warmth than for gifts. Harry bought something for his cousin Dudley (whom he had recently reconnected with); gifts for the Weasleys, Hermione, and Teddy; and a pair of enchanted reindeer antlers that looked all too natural when Harry put them on, though he only laughed when Draco wondered why. Draco bought some potions ingredients and a gift for his mother, an enchanted narcissus flower that was preserved in glass and changed color depending on the weather. 

In all, it had been a beautiful night. But it had been painful. Every time Draco made a comment,  every time he gave his usual teases and prods, Potter would flirt back. It wasn’t his usual friendly bickering. There was something else to it. Something… personal. And it was just right. 

\--

“It went that well?” Ron asked when Harry launched himself onto his bed with a giant sloppy grin on his face. 

“It went pretty well,” Harry said.

“What happened?” 

“Well first off, I might have set him up with Hermione.” 

“YOU WHAT?” 

Harry laughed. “Kidding! He was talking about some muggle book and I told him Hermione would probably love to discuss it with him. Nothing… out of the ordinary happened, but it felt different? You know? It didn’t  _ feel _ like I was just going out with a friend. I swear, he was looking at me differently. I don’t know if I was just getting too warm in that room, but there was something… strange. Good strange.” 

Ron sighed whimsically. “Oh- to be young and in love!” He said. 

Harry hit him with a scarf, but laughed anyway. “It’s just a crush, I’ll get over it,” he said. 

“Careful what you say. I had ‘just a crush’ on Hermione in the beginning. And I hated her for it,” Ron said. “But it didn’t go away. No matter how long I waited.” 

“I never thought I’d be hearing romantic advice from  _ you _ , Mr. Emotional-range-of-a-teaspoon,” Harry said. 

“Hey! I’ve had  _ two  _ girlfriends, which is two more than you’ve had! Ginny doesn’t count, she’s my sister and she’s had a crush on you since she was ten,” Ron argued. 

“No way! I had Cho, too!” 

“Yeah, but at least one of my relationships lasted!” 

The door swung open and Draco and Blaise entered, both with wet hair, having just come from the showers. Draco’s hair was the color of soggy hay and draped over his eyes in wet locks. When he saw Harry, their eyes met for several moments and both boys smiled. 

“Alright, Romeo. Off to bed!” Blaise said, shoving Draco’s shoulder. 

It was just another night. But it felt like something much more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at these awkward doofs being doofs.   
> I hope you guys were excited about this! How are you feeling about Draco's trial? Also, do you feel that Harry and Draco's actions match their true characters in the canon series? I'm always afraid I turn them into entirely different people. But still, there has been some character growth.   
> Thanks for reading and all of your support! I'm really glad you're enjoying it so far.   
> Also, keep commenting! I ALWAYS respond! (Even if I'm a few months late)  
> Lily


	7. Nighttime Strolls

The holiday came rather quickly. The week leading up to the break was exams, which meant Ravenclaw-lead study groups every night. Harry and Draco hardly had time to talk during their study sessions, they were too busy cramming. For every new fact Draco told him, Harry felt as though a different one had fallen out of his head and onto the pub floor. Harry had found clumps of Hermione’s hair all over the place that she had shed from tugging on it in her anxious fits. Other people had different ways of dealing with the stress.

The Hufflepuffs had plastered a giant white sheet over one of the walls and allowed people to throw paint-soaked sponges at it when they got frustrated. Harry’s hands were stained green, red, and orange from the paint. When he got too stressed, he found himself walking aimlessly around the castle. This didn’t help much, though, because it was still in the process of repairing itself and he hardly knew his way around anymore. He got lost at least once a day and had to ask the portraits to show him back, and they weren’t always very trustworthy. One time, they lead him to a room filled with pipes of who-knows-what in the base of the castle that Harry was fairly sure was restricted. 

Draco handled it quite differently. He did something he liked to refer to as a Complete Shut Down. When things got to be too much, he would find a nice lonely corner with no one in it, and shut down. He would bring his books, so he looked as though he was studying, but really, he was staring blankly at the pages, not thinking a single thing.  When he tried to explain it to Pansy, she said he was just zoning out, but it was more than that. All of the sudden, all of the thoughts swarming around in his brain just stopped. The inside of his head was white static and he couldn’t think for a few hours. All he could do was move somewhere where he wouldn’t be bothered and sit for while. It wasn’t just the exams. It was the thought of his impending doom.  _ Had  _ he changed? Was he a better person now? He hadn’t tried to resurrect the Dark Lord, if that counted for anything. 

His most pressing and anxiety-causing thought was this: what did it mean to be good? 

He spent countless hours debating it in his head. Was it just the act of not being bad? Or was there more to it? Did you have to do something special to be considered good? Had he done that?  He had been a good- no- a  _ proper  _ boy for the past few months. He usually answered his mother’s letters on time. He studied for all of his classes and passed in his homework before it was due. He had no detentions and no points were taken from the eighth year house on his behalf. But did that make him good, or simply mediocre? Was it good enough for the Ministry of Magic? 

“Hey. Harry to Draco,” Harry said, snapping his fingers in front of Draco’s face during one of his episodes. Tomorrow would be the last day before break, and they had two exams to go through. The two worst, too. Potions and defense against the dark arts. “Anybody home?” Harry asked.

“Yes. Yes! What do you want?” Draco snarled. 

Harry smiled. “Oh, good. You’re alive. Blaise said you’ve been at it for nearly six hours. I reckon it’s time you go to bed or go throw paint at the wall or something. You don’t really look like you’ve been doing anything productive.” 

“And why’s that?” Draco snarled defensively. 

“You’ve been staring at that one potion page about goblin juice for three hours.” 

He had a point. 

Draco held his face in his hands as Harry collapsed into the seat next to him. “No offense, but you look like you’ve been hit by a bus,” Harry said. 

“And you’re looking as flawless as ever, Mr. Potter,” Draco snarled. He rubbed his eyes, urging his mind to wake up. It wasn’t working. All of his energy was going into paying attention to Harry and forming intelligible responses. His head felt as though it was the consistency of jam. “Sorry. I can’t really think at the moment. Please go bother me at a… another time,” Draco finally managed to say. 

Harry didn’t leave. “Fancy going for a walk with me?” He asked. 

“Don’t we have a curfew or something?” Draco grumbled. 

Harry shrugged. “We just have to be inside the castle. It doesn’t matter where,” he said. He stood up and closed Draco’s text book. “Come on. You could use a little exercise.” 

“Are you calling me fat?” 

“No, I’m calling you brain dead. Now get up before that chair absorbs you.” 

Draco grumbled angrily, but he allowed Harry to pull him from his seat and guide him out of the common room. He waited for Harry to ask him where they should go, but he didn’t. Harry glanced down both directions of the corridor, chose one, and began to walk without another word. 

The castle outside of the common rooms was chilly, what with no fireplaces to heat it. Draco stuck his hands into his pockets for warmth. He had only been out of the common room this late at night a few times, and he fell in love with the aesthetic. Hogwarts always looked magical, but at night, it was even more so. Draco knew that fairies didn’t really exist the same way they did in fairytales, but if they did, they would live here. The nooks and crannies of the castle were lit only by the fire of the torches lining the corridors and the bit of moonlight that peaked through the windows. The light painted the walls with a faint white glow, making it seem biblical. 

They walked until Draco didn’t know where he was anymore. He followed Harry in a mindless trance, but instead of his brain turning to mush, the constant change in scenery kept him awake and persuaded him to think. First, he forced himself to see how many defensive spells he could think of off the top of his head. Then, his mind began to wander. He didn’t think he and Potter had ever spent so much time together without saying a word, aside from when they were asleep in their beds, separated by several feet and two curtains. In that case, they spent quite a lot of time together without saying a word. But, then again, Potter often times  _ did  _ say a word in his sleep. More than one, actually. Draco could never figure out what exactly he was saying, his words were slurred and sleepy, but it always sounded devastatingly important. Draco thought of the way Harry spoke when he was asleep. It only happened on the nights Draco couldn’t bring his eyes to close, so he laid on his bed with the curtains open, listening to the night. Then, he would hear Potter utter a word or two. The voice was almost unrecognizable. It was too low and sleepily articulated. But it was Potter, alright. 

They passed a large window that Draco had never seen before and he turned his attention to the stars. 

“In America, they have fireflies,” Draco said. His voice made Harry jump. 

“That sounds terrifying,” Harry said. He wandered over to a window that stuck out from the corridor like a mini observation tower. “Like... normal flies at just happen to be on fire?” He asked. 

Draco chuckled. “No. It’s a muggle thing.” He stared deeper into the stars. “I’ve never been to America, but Aunt Andromeda told me about them. She visited America when she was little. A month after the war, she decided my mother and I weren’t so bad after all, and she needed help with Teddy. And one night I went over there to have dinner with her and she spent the entire night telling me about these fireflies.” 

“I’ve  only met her a few times,” Harry said, “but if she’s anything like Tonks, I love her.”

It took Draco a moment to realize he was talking about Draco’s cousin, Nymphadora, who had died in the war after leaving her son, Teddy, with her parents. “I never really met Nymphadora. What was she like?” 

“Well, first off, she would have hexed you if she caught you calling her Nymphadora,” Harry said with  a chuckle. “You tell me about the fireflies, and I’ll tell you about Tonks. Okay?” 

Draco smiled and bowed his head. “Alright. Well, Aunt Andromeda said the first time she saw one, she thought it was a shooting star. That is, until it landed on her arm. They’re these little insects that fly at night and their… their… abdomens light up,” he said. 

“They have glow-in-the-dark arses?” Harry asked. 

“No. It’s like they’ve got little muggle light fixtures in their bums that turn on and off. And the part that baffled Aunt Andromeda the most was that they don’t use magic at all. The lights that go on and off inside them, it’s science. It’s got nothing to do with magic. When she said it to me, she said ‘they’re little living stars with no magic whatsoever, and yet, they’re so incredibly magical’ and everytime I see the stars, that’s what I think of,” Draco said. 

“You’ve changed so much,” Harry said. He wasn’t looking at Draco, he was looking at the stars. 

“Yeah, right,” Draco said. 

Harry shook  his head. “A year ago, you never would have told me that. You might have told me about fireflies if I got you in the right mood, but you never would have told me that that’s what you think of everytime you look at the stars. That alone might help you win your trial.” 

Draco smiled. “Don’t flatter yourself, Potter. I’m just delirious. I probably won’t remember this in the morning.” 

“Yes, you will,” Harry said. Draco didn’t know how he could be so sure. 

“You have to tell me about Nymph- Tonks now,” Draco said quietly. 

Harry sighed and looked at the floor for a moment. “She was insane in the best way possible. She could’ve looked like anything in the world, she was a metamorphmagus, but she chose to look like herself just with pink hair. She was incredibly happy, and silly, and always knew how to lighten the mood. But she also could crush you in a matter of seconds. It was a privilege to know her.” 

Draco nodded. “I wish I could’ve,” he whispered. 

There was a silence for several minutes as they both gazed into the endless sky. 

“Potter?”

“Malfoy.” 

“Where the bloody hell are we?” 

“I dunno.” 

Draco stepped back from the window. “How can you not know where we are? You brought us here!” He demanded. 

Harry sighed. “Sometimes, I think the castle takes me where I need to go. I just walk until I find somewhere or something important. It doesn’t happen as much as it used to. Before the war, it would take me to hear conversations I needed to hear, or see things I needed to see. Now, it’s not really sure where it wants me to go.” 

“It’s a castle,” Draco said. “You’re so dramatic.” 

“You’re more dramatic than I am! You think stars are magical non-magic bugs instead of giant balls of gas in the sky!” 

“That’s what makes me interesting,” Draco said with a wink. 

Harry smiled. “I suppose we should find our way back. We’ve got exams tomorrow and all,” he muttered. 

They were quiet as they randomly chose a direction and began to walk. Perhaps Harry had been right about the castle taking them where they needed to be, because now, they were back in front of the eighth year common room within ten minutes, about a third of the time it took them to wander away. Harry stood in front of their dormitory door, watching Draco as if he expected something. 

“What do you want, Potter?” Draco whispered. 

Harry grinned. “Just trying to see if I’ll get a ‘thank you’ this time,” he said. 

Draco smiled softly. His eyes met Harry’s. Harry’s eyes were an emerald green, which was a startling color for a Gryffindor, but Draco thought it looked oddly handsome. He rested his pale hand on Harry’s cinnamon colored cheek. They were standing so close, Draco could feel Harry’s breath on his nose. “Don’t push your luck, Potter,” Draco said in a whisper. He shoved Harry and pushed open the door to the dorm room. 

Harry remained in the hallway. His heart and his head were both spinning a million kilometers per hour. What had just happened? Was Draco about to kiss him? What did he mean ‘ _ Don’t push your luck _ ’? And the look on his face when he said it. Was it satisfaction? Did he know Harry liked him? Harry realized he was still standing frozen outside the door to his dorm room, so he wandered inside and sat on the edge of his bed for a few moments. 

It was nearly 2 AM and Ron was fast asleep. So was Blaise, on the other side of the room. Malfoy was going through the movements and getting ready for bed without sparing Harry a second thought. How could he do that? How could he go from embracing Harry’s cheek to ignoring his presence? Harry tried to put it out of his mind as he climbed under the covers, but it didn’t work . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello, hello!  
> EEEEEEEEE what do you think about the almost-kiss? That was a fun one to write!   
> Thanks so much for the feedback you guys gave me.  
>  My questions for this chapter are as follows; Are they moving too fast? Or is it acceptable after the years of pining over each other? Do you like Man-Bun-Harry? What about Legolas-Hair-Draco?   
> Thanks again for reading!!  
> Lily


	8. Holidays

The day after the ‘Firefly Incident’, as Harry liked to call it, was shockingly normal. When he woke up, Draco was still fast asleep. Harry proceeded to go to breakfast, like usual. He then sat through a three hour Defense Against the Dark Arts exam and an equally long Potions exam. Malfoy had been present in both, yet still pretended that Harry wasn’t there. Like normal. 

Hermione and Ron seemed completely unfazed when Harry recounted the details of the night’s shenanigans to them. Granted, Hermione was having a panic attack because she still had her Arithmancy exam to take, but both Hermione and Ron claimed to have known it was going to happen all along. 

After exams were over, there was a holiday party in the eighth year common room. The entire room looked like a winter wonderland, decorated with enchanted glittering paper snowflakes. The ceiling was charmed to look like it was snowing, and there was a carefree air to the room in celebration of the end of exams. In the center of the room, there was a Christmas tree and a menorah sitting side by side. Two of the candles on the menorah were lit, glowing a royal blue and they shot chocolate coins at anyone who was close enough to blow them out. The Christmas tree was decked in red, green, yellow, and blue ornaments with a dragon as the tree topper. 

The party itself was nothing exciting. Many students would be staying at school over the break, some didn’t have homes to go to. Everyone pretended eggnog wasn’t disgusting and played silly holiday-themed games. 

The next morning, Harry was more than happy to return to the Burrow for the holidays. 

When he first saw it, he was in awe, to say the least. The once tall and lop-sided house stood pencil straight and no longer looked like it would tumble over if someone sneezed too intensely. It looked more like a jenga tower constructed by a bunch of architects. The bottom was one large rectangle, but it had rectangles of various sizes stacked on top of it. Each floor had different windows. One had a balcony sticking off the front, and the others had balconies coming off of the sides. It looked goofy and a bit cartoonish, but Harry suspected that was the intent. 

“Don’t you love it?” Mrs. Weasley asked, clasping a hand over her heart. 

“It’s… different,” Ron said, a pang of sadness in his voice. 

Mrs. Weasley shrieked merrily. “Oh, I know! Your father designed it himself. He wanted it to have a bit of it’s own fun element to it, but we still wanted enough space for all of you children- and the grandchildren!” 

“Mum, you haven’t got any grandchildren,” Ginny said.

“Yes, but- oh, why don’t you take a look inside! Harry and Ron, your room is at the top. Ginny, you’re on the third floor,” Mrs. Weasley cooed. 

Harry and Ron wandered through the front door of the house.  There was a small mudroom, where several coats were hung in a row. That then lead to a staircase down the center with the kitchen to the left and a sitting room to the right. In the center of the sitting room was a very tall Christmas tree that nearly reached the ceiling. The boys wandered through the sitting room to the back of the house, where a formal dining room stretched through the entire length of the house. The table, for once, was large enough to seat the entire Order of the Phoenix. If they hasn’t all died. Harry decided it was best to keep moving. They climbed up four flights of stairs before they reached Ron’s room. It was it’s own floor, and it was the smallest floor of the house. The plaque on the door read ‘ _ Ron’s Room (and Harry, of course) _ ’ in tidy handwriting.

“Hasn’t changed a bit,” Ron said, pushing the door open. “Well… it’s changed a little,” he muttered, stepping in. There were two beds on either side of the room and a fireplace in the center, which didn’t make sense because there were no chimneys coming out of the house. Beside the bed on the left was a door to a balcony and two grand wardrobes stood next to the fireplace. On one of the beds, several of Ron’s surviving posters and pictures had been rolled up and left for him to put up where he deemed fit. 

“A balcony,” Harry muttered, peaking out the window. Snow was still falling lightly, though it wasn’t sticking. 

“This place  _ smells _ new,” Ron said with a grimace. 

Harry grinned. “Don’t worry, we can fix that in a matter of days.” Ron laughed and fell onto his bed. 

“We’ve got our own floor! Ginny’s got to share with Mum and Dad. Bill and Charlie have got rooms next to each other, of course, and George’s got to share his floor with Percy. I reckon he won’t be spending the night often, though. Both of them live close enough. Oi, I wonder if the ghoul still lives upstairs,” Ron said, glancing hopefully at the ceiling. 

Harry was hit with a wave of nausea when the picture of the sad creature came to his mind. “Maybe we should check tomorrow,” he offered, still feeling a bit queasy. 

\--

Typically speaking, Harry Potter was incapable of feeling and thinking about more than one things at once. Typically speaking, Draco Malfoy was the opposite. 

When he stepped up to the walkway to Malfoy Manor, he was feeling a hundred different things at once. Excitement to spend time in his childhood home with his mother, whom he adored, and his friends, who would be visiting him at some point. Overwhelming guilt, because of the memories that stained the floors of the manor. Apprehension, because every moment he was in the manor was a moment closer to his trial. Relief, he didn’t have any homework for once. And then, of course, there was the boy who always seemed to be on his mind because he couldn’t manage to get him to leave. Harry Potter. 

“Mother, I, erm, I’ve got to tell you something,” Draco said, once he had finally brushed away all of his mother’s gushing remarks about how he was too thin and was he eating enough and he looked so tired and- 

“Yes, dear, what is it? Tell me everything!” Narcissa took her son by the hand and pulled him to sit beside her on the sofa. “I want to know  _ everything.  _ What are you thinking? What are you feeling? What’s happened since the summer, dear? Your letters are terribly vague.”   _ CONFIDE IN ME,  _ her grey eyes screamed.

Draco smiled softly. “The last one was seven pages long and it was just describing one weekend, Mother,” he said quietly. 

She huffed and squeezed his hands. “Oh, but it was nothing compared to hearing it from you, my Draco. Now please, do tell me.” 

He rubbed the back of her old, wrinkled hand with his thumb. In twelve months, his mother had aged thirty years. She was beautiful once, like him. Her grey eyes looked less like sharp quartz and more like a sad storm cloud that had been hanging in the sky for too long. Her scalp was patterned with bald spots, her hair was falling out from the stress. Of course, she would always be beautiful to Draco. She was his mother, after all.  “Well, Mother, first of all, I’m going to be spending two days at Aunt Andromeda’s house watching Teddy after Christmas.” 

She gasped. “But your trial-” 

“Is the day after. I’ll be fine, Mother. Potter is coming to help as well,” he said. 

Her body tensed. 

“I know,” Draco said soothingly. It was hard. It was hard for her to trust the boy who had ruined her life, even if it hadn’t been his fault. Even if she had saved his life. “It’s alright, Mum. Harry and I- we’ve become rather close. We’re roommates.” 

“Oh, yes, I’m well aware,” Narcissa said, trying to compose herself. 

“I trust you saw the article in the Daily Prophet about us.” Draco cast his gaze to the roaring fireplace behind them. 

“So it’s true then,” his mother squeezed his hands. 

“We’re friends,” Draco said. His mother watched his face for several moments.

“You’re not!” 

“Mother!”

“Draco, you mistake me!” She shouted, pulling his hands closer to her chest. “I can see it in your eyes. There’s more. There’s- there’s something else. Something you haven’t quite mentioned yet. This old woman might be off her rocker, Draco, but she still knows her son.”

Draco smiled fondly. “You aren’t off your rocker, Mother. You’re perfectly sane.” 

“You’re just saying that. Now, tell me about Potter.” 

Draco shifted uncomfortably in his seat and observed how clean the white marble floors were. What was there to say? Potter was… Potter. Well, that was something. “He said to me the other day that everyone treats him like Harry Potter the Great and Mighty, and he feels like he has all of these eyes on him, wondering what the Great Potter is going to do next. And he said that when he’s around me, he doesn’t have to be the Great Potter. He just gets to be Harry,” Draco said. “And I think that’s probably the best way I can explain it. He said that it’s nice that sometimes, he just gets to be bad at potions. And it’s the same for me when I’m with him. I just get to talk about potions, or Teddy, or whatever it is that we’re talking about and I don’t have to worry about Father or my trial or what other people think of me. Sometimes, I can let my guard down. And it’s so refreshing being… just Draco.” 

Narcissa nodded knowingly. “I loved your father once.” 

“ _ Mother _ .” 

“Listen to me, my Draco. I loved your father once. I was shallow. I loved him because I was a rich, Slytherin, pure blooded girl and he was a rich, Slytherin, pure blooded man. I loved him because his smile sent butterflies up my stomach. And I was shallow because I loved him for those reasons only and I did what I was told. Having you was supposed to be my rebellion. Everyone said you were supposed to be a boy. You  _ had  _ to be a boy, to carry on the Malfoy name. But secretly, I hoped- no, I  _ knew  _ you’d be a girl. In a world where I did what I was told all the time, you were going to be my rebellion.” 

“But I wasn’t.” 

Narcissa had a mischievous gleam in her eye. “No, my dear, but I found other ways to rebel.” 

Draco smiled and rolled his eyes. “Mother, does this have a point?” 

“Of course it does, my Draco. My point is that I had to do something for myself. I did everything for everyone else. I married into a rich, pure blood family to bring mine a bit more respect. I had a baby to bring my husband the satisfaction of having an heir to his name. I did all of these things for other people, so I had to rebel in some way. I had to do something for  _ myself  _ for once. Do you see what I’m saying?” 

“No.” 

She chuckled.”I’m saying, love, that Harry Potter is your rebellion. In a way, he was mine, too. All your life, you’ve had things given to you on a silver platter. You’ve always had help. Your father has always told you what he wants you to do and you’ve done it. But Harry Potter is completely yours, my dear. No one could have brought you to him but you. Harry Potter is your rebellion, and I think it will be wonderful for you, dear. With Mr. Potter on your side, you can win the trial. And… you can be happy.” 

Draco was silent in thought. What did she mean ‘he could be happy’? Wasn’t he happy enough? Well… no, but that moment didn’t really count. He had a lot going on. 

“Is there anything else you want to tell me about Harry Potter?” 

Draco stayed staring at the ground. “The other night, I nearly tried to kiss him.” 

A sly smile spread across his mother’s lips. That was the answer she had been looking for all along. 

\--

The New Burrow was bursting with as much cheer as it was with red-headed children. George came the night Harry arrived, followed by Bill and Fleur, and the next day, Percy and Charlie made appearances. The house itself was heavily decorated in magic snowflakes that weren’t cold, but still melted on contact with warm skin. Tinsel ran across every possible location, and you had to be vigilant and aware of the enchanted mistletoe, lest you get stuck beneath it with Kreature, who had volunteered himself for the holidays. (Or with anyone else, for that matter. Harry had already been forced to kiss Ron twice.) There was a constant stream of music coming from the kitchen, though there seemed to be a battle between Mrs. Weasley’s Celestina Warbeck and Fleur’s French church songs. 

On Christmas eve, they all gathered in the spotless dining room for dinner that Mrs. Weasley and Fleur had slaved away at for two days, occasionally stealing Ginny when she wasn’t hiding well enough. 

“Hello! Yes, ve ‘ave an announcement to make!” Fleur called out over the chattering table, tapping her fork on the side of a glass. 

“This had better be good,” Ron said, looking up from his plate in frustration. 

Fleur smiled politely and refused to speak until she had complete silent. “Bill and I ‘ave someting _ tres importante  _ to tell you all! I deescovered that… I am pregnant! The baby is coming in May!” She sang, throwing her arms in the air. Bill looked pleased, grinning to himself. 

Mrs. Weasley let out a loud shriek that shattered several decorative tea cups and stood out of her chair. “YOU’RE HAVING A BABY!” She cried, climbing over people in order to crush Bill, Fleur, and the unborn baby in a hug. “You’ve known for three months and you haven’t told me? Oh! And Ginny said I didn’t have any grandchildren! This is so wonderful!” She shouted. Her shouts quickly turned into sobs. “I’m just- I’m so happy- I’m going to be a grandmother!” She sobbed. 

“Yes, well, you’ve got to live until the baby’s born and not have any excitement-induced heart attacks before then,” George said. He helped her back into her seat. “Congrats, mate!” He said to his brother. 

They all took turns congratulating the pregnant couple and the mood in the room got even happier. Harry tried to imagine a little child running around the Burrow. This was only the start to many,  _ many  _ Weasleys to come, and he was sure he’d adore them all. 

Ron was still in shock when they retired to their room after dessert. “Bill, a father. Weird, huh?” He asked. 

“Not as weird as it will be seeing Fleur pregnant,” Harry said. 

“Do veelas even  _ get  _ baby bumps?” Ron muttered, staring at the ceiling. Harry laughed. “George looks happy, though, doesn’t he? I mean, he was really… not well for a while after Fred…. I mean, we all were, but it hit him the most. He seems happy though,doesn’t he?” He asked. 

Harry nodded. “Yeah. He does. I’m happy for him.”

“Me too. I was talking to him and he said he could use a little help in the shop, though. Just managing and making things, you know? Do you think… do you think I could?” 

“Sure!” Harry said. He tried to sound enthusiastic, but he couldn’t bare to think of parting with his friend after school. It made anxiety swell in his chest. He had done everything with Ron for years, he wouldn’t sure he’d be able to do anything without him. 

Ron nodded. “Yeah. Thanks, mate,” he said. There was a pause. “Hermione wants to go into the Ministry. She’s doing some sort of internship this summer and then she’s going to start working there in September.” Harry tried to look remotely interested, which was only difficult because he had heard Hermione say it about a million times. “I reckon she’ll be the youngest Minister of magic there has ever been. Ministress? Whatever. But I’m kind of nervous. I’m afraid she’s going to go onto do great things in the Ministry and she’s going to forget her boyfriend who works at a joke shop, you know?” He asked. 

Harry bit his lip. He had been so worried about his life after school that he had forgotten to worry about Ron  and Hermione’s relationship. What would happen to them? “That’s crazy,” he finally decided. “You can do good with that joke shop, too, you know. It really makes people happy. And you can always donate proceeds and stuff,” Harry said. 

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Ron said. “Charitable stuff, I mean. It still needs development and stuff but what if we did a line of jokes and stuff to support kids going through grief who lost family in the war? And we could donate the money to helping war orphans. I dunno, it’s silly.” 

“That is  _ not  _ silly,” Harry said. “George would love it. You should talk to him about it.” 

“I reckon I will,” Ron muttered. He stared at the ceiling for a while. “Harry, what are you going to do? Once we’re out of school and all.” 

Harry sighed. “What else is there for me to do? I feel like no matter what I do, I’ll never be able to live up to people’s expectations. I could be an auror, but they hardly need more. I could be a public figure, but I’ve never been one for talking. I dunno.” 

“I heard McGonagall's going to offer you a teaching position,” Ron said. 

Harry was quiet for a few minutes. Could he be a Hogwarts professor? He had never really thought about it. He had experience from teaching Dumbledore’s Army. “Can you wait until the morning to give me an existential crisis, mate?” Harry asked. 

Ron laughed. “Sure thing. Merry Christmas, Harry.” 

“Merry Christmas, Ron.” 

Ron clicked his deluminators and all of the light in the room swarmed to him and disappeared, including the fire in the fireplace. “Dammit,” Ron cursed. He clicked it again and the light went zooming back into the fire place. 

Harry laughed and rolled onto his side as his eyes began to droop and the world went black. 

\--

This Christmas was the most normal Harry had ever had. He received gifts from all of the Weasleys and a very nice journal from Hermione that would eat his socks if he went for more than a week without writing in it. He decided she was definitely out to get him. 

Conversely, Draco had the most bland Christmas he had ever experienced. He and his mother were alone in the large manor for most of the holiday. Aunt Andromeda and Teddy joined them for Christmas Eve dinner, which was unusually nice. Andromeda and Narcissa laughed about childhood memories and discussed Teddy’s recent developments, comparing them to Draco when he had been that age. Narcissa whined with the want of grandchildren and sobbed due to the absence of her husband. She assured Draco and Andromeda that she did not miss him, but she missed having a husband. 

Draco watched Teddy while Andromeda comforted her sister. It was beautiful. His mother wept great, heaving tears. She did everything she was supposed to, and still, her life had gone so wrong. She did what her parents told her to and wound up on the wrong side of the war. Andromeda did not chastise her for not doing what was right. She did not compare herself to Narcissa. She simply held her sister as she cried and assured her she could still do right in the world. She  _ had  _ done right in the world, and Draco was evidence of that. 

Not for the first time, Draco longed for a sibling. 

Narcissa had been raised with her two sisters, Bellatrix and Andromeda. Bellatrix and Narcissa had been close, but Andromeda was an outcast. And here they were, Narcissa and Andromeda, the two remaining sisters. Weeping over each other like that never had before. 

“I’m sorry!” Narcissa kept saying. “You were right, Andromeda!” 

“Oh, shush, darling,” Andromeda said softly, rubbing her sister’s back. “There is no wrong or right, darling. You were just listening to our parents. It’s okay.” 

“Now, my Draco might go to Azkaban because of me!” 

“Draco is  _ not  _ going to Azkaban,” Andromeda looked up at her nephew, who was cradling Teddy and trying to get him to drink from his bottle. “Not if I can help it. You’ve got yourself a good boy, Cissy.” 

Draco pretended he wasn’t listening and coaxed Teddy to drink a little more. The baby was falling asleep as he nursed. The phrase  _ I can’t change the past  _ ran laps in Draco’s mind. 

The next morning, Narcissa and Draco opened presents together and had a lonely brunch. In the afternoon, Gregory Goyle, Pansy, and Blaise came to visit Draco and they exchanged gifts. Draco disliked Christmas because he was awful at gift giving. 

“Have you bought a gift for Potter?” Pansy asked, admiring the pendant Blaise had given her. Draco had given her a new wand case that she would never use. 

Draco sighed. “Yes.” He said. 

There was a silence, as they were all expecting him to tell them what it was, but he didn’t. He continued flipping through the pages of the book Pansy had gotten him. The truth was, he had a love-hate relationship with the gift he had gotten for Potter. It was completely emotionless, which he loved about it. He didn’t want to give Potter something that would make him  _ feel  _ anything. He didn’t want Potter to think he cared, even though he  _ did  _ so awfully much. But that was also why he hated it. He wanted to give Potter a gift so meaningful, that he’d never be able to give something that great back. What he  _ had  _ gotten him was a small potions kit that they could use during their study sessions. He noticed Potter was a hands-on learner. He often got distracted if he didn’t have something in his hands, so Draco assumed this would help. 

It was a stupid, meaningless gift. But it was perfect for Just Harry. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emotionally prepared yourselves friends cause the next one is a roller coaster.   
> That's all I've got to say for today ;)  
> Thank you for reading!!!  
> Lily


	9. Boys in the Night

Draco arrived at Andromeda’s house before Harry did. It was just before noon when he arrived, and the sun made the illusion that it was nice out, but it was a bitter cold that bit Draco’s nose as he approached the quaint house. He had decided to apparate there, leaving the floo network open for Harry. 

The house was small and split-level. It was a light mint green with brown accents, settled in a muggle neighborhood. Andromeda had not received a fortune from her parents and her muggle husband had been a very average man before he died. But Draco adored it. He loved the mundaneness of the house and Andromeda’s life. There was nothing glamorous about it, but it fit her nicely. Andromeda deserved to be a princess, but this lifestyle fit her just as well, if not better. 

He knocked on the door, hugging his coat close to his body. He heard Andromeda’s laughter, followed by the pounding footsteps of a little boy. “Come in!” Andromeda shouted through the door. Draco began to open the door slowly, as Andromeda said “Careful, Teddy, dear, let him in!” 

“Hello, Aunt Andromeda,” Draco said, allowing himself to enter the warm home. It wasn’t just warm in temperature, but warm in liveliness. Andromeda was by no means a young woman, but she concealed it well. She had lost her daughter and her husband to a war, yet her presence filled every room with affection and joy. Learning to love Aunt Andromeda was a large part in Draco’s recovery, something he wasn’t willing to forget. She was quirky. She married a muggle. Her social skills were subpar and she always opted to wear muggle clothes when she could get away with it. But she was endlessly forgiving. She didn’t mourn the daughter and husband she had lost, she celebrated their lives and lived every day remembering the smiles on their faces and the joy they brought her. To her, their deaths weren’t them leaving her forever, they were a temporary goodbye. Their memories would live on with her for ever. And Draco endlessly admired her for it. 

“Draco, dear!” Andromeda cooed, ushering Draco into the home. “You must be chilly! Come along, Teddy. Let Draco warm up!” 

Draco smiled and took the blue-haired baby into his arms. “Hey, Teddy bear,” he said. 

Andromeda’s grin lit up her face. “Oh, how sweet! You know, ever since he’s been able to walk, he hasn’t let me hold him. Not that I could, with this shoulder of mine acting up,” she said. Her eyes looked forlorn, but it didn’t take away from her overall merriness. “Thank you for coming, Draco. Do you know when Harry is arriving?” She asked. 

“He should be here at any moment,” Draco said. “I believe he’s arriving by floo powder. Perhaps there was some mixup.” 

But before Draco could punctuate his sentence, there was a poof from the other room. Andromeda and Draco, with Teddy nestled in his arms, rushed into the sitting room to the fireplace. Harry stood there, looking slightly baffled. His glasses were covered in soot, but beside that, he seemed relatively unharmed. 

“Potter,” Draco said fondly. 

“Malfoy,” Harry replied with a grin that made Draco have to fight himself to keep from smiling larger than he ever had before. He stepped out of the fireplace, attempting to knock the soot off of his shoes before stepping onto the carpet. “Where are my manners? Hello, Mrs. Tonks! Hello, Teddy! Merry Christmas!” Harry said, opening his arms to them all. 

Andromeda clapped her hands together. “Oh! Happy holidays, Harry!” She said, embracing him. “I  _ hate  _ to leave you two in such a hurry, but I’m afraid I’m already a bit late for my appointment.” She kissed the top of Teddy’s head. “Take good care of these two, Teddy! See you all tomorrow!” 

“Goodbye, Aunt Andromeda!” 

“Good luck, Mrs. Tonks!” 

There was a poof and she was gone. The room was silent for a moment as the boys observed each other. Draco was still in a long black coat, snowflakes dancing on the tips of his hair, with the small Teddy waiting patiently on his hip. Harry had his arms folded across his chest, which was decorated with this year’s Weasley sweater. His hair was in an expertly crafted- yet effortless- messy bun, and there were faint black hairs growing on his chin in a very masculine way. He had a rucksack on his back that seemed as stuffed as it could be. The men observed each other for several moments. 

Harry finally clapped his hands together, rubbing them as if they were cold. “I’ve got gifts for you two,” he said, looking from Draco to Teddy. 

“I’ve got some as well. Would you like your gifts, Teddy?” Draco asked. 

The little boy shrieked and they each found a place in the sitting room around the small coffee table. Draco placed Teddy on the couch, where he rolled off and began wandering from Draco to Harry to Draco again. Harry unloaded his rucksack and Draco took several packages out of his pockets. 

“For you,” Harry said, sliding two gifts over the Draco. “And for Teddy,” he added, giving two more to the small boy who had finally situated himself in Harry’s lap. 

“Here you are,” Draco said, sliding the two packages over. “The top one is for Teddy, the bottom is for you.” 

“Let’s open Teddy’s first,” Harry announced. He first picked up the package from Draco and let Teddy tear through the paper until he got bored and Harry finished for him. The gift from Draco was a bright blue Teddy bear that said Teddy’s name when you hugged it. Harry’s was a Weasley sweater (blue with a lime green T) and a miniature broomstick, like the one he had when he was a child.

Draco laughed upon seeing the broomstick. “He’s going to hurt himself!” He argued. 

Harry shook his head. “Nah. Apparently I had one when I was little. The most harmful thing I did was break an ugly vase and terrorize the cat.” 

“I didn’t know you had a cat.” 

“Neither did I, until about a year ago,” Harry chuckled. “Alright, now open yours!” 

Draco slowly unwrapped the first gift. Before he had completely unwrapped it, he threw his head back and laughed. “You’re kidding. This can’t be happening!” He said, pulling out his own emerald colored Weasley sweater with a silver D in the center. He glanced at Harry for an explanation. 

“Ron told her I was seeing you and Teddy over break and she  _ insisted  _ on knitting you one,” Harry said with a shrug. 

“This is wonderful,” Draco said. He pulled off the cardigan he was wearing and put on the sweater. It was too big in all the right places. “Perfect. I’ll have to write her.” He laughed again. “I don’t think I’ve ever genuinely loved a gift so much,” he said. 

Harry nodded. “I felt the same way the first year she sent me one. Open your other gift! That one’s from me. It’s nothing as nice as a sweater, of course.” 

Draco eagerly lifted the second gift into his hands. It was heavy and rectangular. It felt like a book, but Potter wasn’t one for reading. He carefully peeled back the paper. It looked like, well, a book. The paper was bound and had a hardcover, but the pages were all blank. The cover was navy blue and decorated with shining yellow dots. “A journal?” Draco asked, thumbing through the pages. 

Harry shrugged. “Yeah, well, you always complain that writing your notes on parchment makes them get lost all the time and that notebooks didn’t look nice on your shelf. So I got you the best solution I could think of. Even if you didn’t want to write notes in it, you could disguise it as a book and no one would know what it was. I saw the cover and it made me think of what you told me about fireflies.” 

The statement caused a flush to rise to Draco’s cheeks, so he stuck his nose in the pages in attempt to hide it. “Potter, that’s very thoughtful of you, surprisingly,” he said, meeting Harry’s eyes. “Thank you.” 

Harry grinned. “My third ‘thank you’. May I open mine now?” 

“You may,” Draco said, rolling his eyes.

The black-haired boy unwrapped the potions kit and turned it over in his hand several times, keeping it out of Teddy’s reach as he did so. He grinned. He understood the meaning behind it instantly. It wasn’t supposed to be heartwarming or special in anyway. It was the basic message that Draco cared enough to know that Harry needed something like this, and it was the basic message that it wasn’t just another gift. The thought made Harry’s heart skip a beat. He put the potions kit on the table and Teddy on the couch besides Draco and leaned over to hug the boy with blonde hair. 

“Oh. Are we- are we hugging?” Draco asked, slowly drawing his arms around Harry’s back. 

“Yes. Let it happen, Malfoy,” Harry said, tightening his grasp around Draco and resting his chin on his shoulder. 

Draco relaxed and buried his face in Harry’s neck. He smelled like cinnamon and candles. He was so warm, he was like a little puppy, bursting with energy. Draco wanted to hold on forever. And he would have, too, if he hadn’t seen Teddy slip off the couch out of the corner of his eye. “Teddy!” He said, quickly letting go and chasing after the toddler. 

Harry laughed and followed, abandoning the potions kit on the table. 

\--

Together, Harry and Draco watched Teddy eat two servings of Mac and Cheese, apple slices, four chicken nuggets, and two yogurts. They sat beside each other with Teddy in between, watching Shapes Who Sing for a bit,  and eventually wrestled Teddy into bed. This was no easy task, for Teddy wanted to stay up with his cool uncles who wouldn’t stop looking at each other. Harry and Draco read him two stories each before the one-year-old was finally asleep. 

“Goodnight,” Harry said softly. 

Draco hit him with a pillow. “If you wake him up, I will personally vaporize you,” he hissed under his breath. “Let’s get out of here,” he whispered. They tiptoed out of the room, down the hallway, and down the stairs until they were sure the baby wouldn’t hear them. 

Harry collapsed on the couch, folding his legs and leaning against the arm so he was facing Draco. “Well, that was fun, huh?” He asked.  

“Teddy’s always fun,” Draco said, smiling softly. 

“Anything you want to watch?” Harry asked, picking up the remote to the TV. 

Draco shrugged. “I don’t own a TV. What kind of muggle do you take me for? I’ll be fine so long as I don’t have to hear the Singing Shapes’ arrangement of Shapes Who Sleep Song one more time.” 

Harry chuckled and settled on an old Christmas movie he had seen about a billion times. “How has your break been?” He asked, casually stretching his arms above his head. Draco’s heart did a backflip. 

“Erm, rather bland,” he said, trying to get rid of the feeling. “Yours?” 

“About the same,” Harry muttered. They were quiet as they watched the boy on the television booby trap his house so the robbers would leave him alone. “Can I ask you something?” Harry asked. 

Draco played with the hem of his sweater. “You can ask. I might not answer.” 

Harry chuckled. “Fair enough. That night we talked about the fireflies… were you going to… do something before we said goodbye?” He asked, shifting so he was sitting on his knees. 

Draco’s face turned the color of Harry’s sweater. “Do something? I have no clue what you mean.” 

“I dunno, it just seems to me that there was something you wanted to do when we were saying goodbye that night,” Harry said. He shifted again so he was closer to Draco than before. Their legs pressed together and Harry’s arm snaked across the top of the couch, getting unreasonably close to Draco’s shoulders. 

“Perhaps if you mentioned what you thought I was going to do, I would remember,” Draco said. His eyes dared Harry to come closer. They dared him to make a move. 

He sighed and bit his lip. Draco’s heart had never been so active. It did laps in his rib cage, it ran from the pit of his stomach to the tip of his chest in some crazy gymnastic routine. Harry ran his hand through his hair, hoping it wasn’t as sweaty as it felt like it was. “I dunno. It was something a bit like this,” he leaned forward and brushed his lips against Draco’s. 

Much to his surprise, Draco leaned in for more. He drew his arms around Harry’s neck and pulled him down on top of him. “Yeah, I guess there  _ was  _ something I wanted to do,” Draco whispered. 

“Do it,” Harry whispered back. He pressed his forehead against Draco’s and their lips locked again, sending shockwaves through their bodies. Harry collapsed and fell onto Draco, but they didn’t stop. Harry’s hands found the hem of Draco’s sweater and snaked up beneath it, rubbing patterns into his back. Draco’s fingers entangled themselves in Harry’s hair. 

“Wait, wait, wait!” Draco said, pushing Harry back so he was sitting upwards again. He sat back on his knees, waiting for something to come. Draco leaned back, breathless. His eyes were drawn to Harry's hair. Harry leaned in for another kiss, but Draco stopped him. He pulled Harry’s hair out of its bun and licked the palm of his hand. Regretfully, Harry's first thought was 'that's kinky'. Then, Draco smoothed back Harry's hair as best he could. "Damn, Potter. The rumors are true," there was a gleam in his eye. "Your hair is as unruly as you are."

Harry rolled his eyes. “How long have you wanted to try that?” 

“Years,” Draco said, pushing himself into Harry once more. They were a mass of bodies and limbs, pushing and tugging for dominance. One moment, Harry was on top of Draco, pressing his hands up and down his back, and the next, they were flipped. Harry was on his back with his head resting on the arm of the couch while Draco leaned over him, his knees on either side of Harry’s torso. 

Harry’s hands worked the sweater over Draco’s head and tossed it onto the floor. “Is this okay?” He asked for a moment. 

“Shut up,” Draco said in the spot where a response would be. He collapsed onto Harry again and worked his sweater off as well. Then, he leaned back to admire his work. “Shit, Potter,” he whispered. His hands traced up Harry’s abdomen.

“What? Like what you see?” Harry asked with a smirk. He flexed his abs a little bit, enough so that Draco would see his toned stomach, but not enough for him to know he was flexing. 

Draco grinned and shook his head. “Fuck you, Potter,” he said, hitting him into the stomach. He leaned down for another kiss. 

“Wait, Draco, wait,” Harry said. “We can’t do this on your Aunt’s couch. It makes me feel weird.” 

“There’s a guest room upstairs.” 

“Teddy.” 

“Teddy’s room is on the other side of the house. He won’t hear a thing,” Draco said. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for  _ years,  _ Potter, you can’t cut me off now.” He smirked of emphasis.  

Harry shook his head, grinning. “You make a compelling argument.” He kissed the side of Draco’s neck. “Lead the way.” 

That night, Draco discovered that he was hopelessly, head-over-heels in love with Harry freaking Potter. He was in love with brown skin and the silver scars that decorated it. He was in love with the comforting smell of cinnamon and candles. Draco was in love with the fluffy black hair and the ginormous glasses that always got in his way. And he simply adored the way Harry Potter moaned. 

Harry had been in love long before that night. He had been in love for  _ months,  _ he was just too stupid to realize. He was in love with the rare moments he was able to make Draco laugh and the bountiful moments in which he made him scowl. He was in love with the lose platinum blonde waves that fell over Draco’s shoulders when he was getting ready for bed. He was in love with the way Draco stared at the same sentence in a book for hours without ever reading it, and he was in love with the look Draco gave him when he was being stupid. And that night, Harry was so hopelessly in love, that he decided he would never let go. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't write smut cause I'd rather let the pros do it hahaha. I hope this will suffice!  
> I had more to say but I have to go sit with my brother until he falls asleep cause I'm babysitting.   
> What do you think is going to happen at the trial? What do you WANT to happen at the trial??  
> Thanks for reading and commenting and leaving kudos! I really appreciate it, guys!  
> Lily


	10. The Day Before

When Harry woke up, Draco was gone. Sunlight poured in through the window, reflecting off of the crystals of snow that covered the ground outside. Harry shielded his eyes, throwing whatever clothes he could find on before making his way downstairs. 

“Looks like Potter finally decided to join us for breakfast, Teddy,” Draco said, sipping a cup of tea casually.

On the other side of the table from the security of his highchair, Teddy shrieked and clapped his hands. 

“Morning,” Harry muttered. “How long have you two been up?” He asked groggily.

Draco bit his lip. “I never really fell asleep,” he muttered. Harry leaned down to kiss his cheek but Draco shoved him away. “Don’t kiss me with your morning breath! Anyway, I was up just laying in bed and I heard Teddy get up around 6:00, so we came down stairs and watched the television for a bit before having breakfast. I made you some tea,” he said, nodding to the cup on the counter. 

“Thanks,” Harry said. “What time is Andromeda coming back?” 

“Not until this evening,” Draco said. 

Harry gasped. “Your trial! It’s tomorrow!” He said. 

Draco shrugged. “Good observation, Potter.” 

“Do you need help… I dunno… preparing or anything? Are you ready? What are you going to say?” Harry asked anxiously. He drummed his fingers on the side of the counter rapidly, without any sense of rhythm. 

“I’m going to say that I joined the wrong side of the war because my father raised me to believe it was right, and now I realize my mistakes and I’ve changed,” Draco said nonchalantly, but Harry saw the anxiety in his eyes. 

“That’s  _ it _ ? Do you want me to testify?” 

“ _ No! _ ” 

“Why not?” 

Draco laughed. “You’ll only say something stupid and get me in even more trouble. If I want  _ anyone  _ to testify for me, it’ll be Granger. At least she’s got some sense in her head. But I don’t need anyone to testify for me. Trust me, I’ve got this on my own.” 

Harry sighed. “You don’t have to do this on your own. It doesn’t have to be your battle.” 

“Don’t you see, Potter? It already is,” Draco stood up from the table and pushed his chair in. “It always has been. I’m the only one who can make the Ministry trust me again. If I don’t, then I’m just as bad as I was before, always in need. Besides, I’ve got it under control. I know what I’m going to talk about and I know what they want to hear, so that’s what I’ll say. My mother will be there, that’s all the encouragement I need. I’m going to be alright,” he kissed Harry’s cheek and placed his cup in the sink. 

“Do you want me to come?” Harry asked. “I’ll come! That way I’ll be able to help you if I need to!” 

Draco scoffed. “Absolutely not. Potter, just you being there to support me will make them biased. I have to do this on my own.” 

“No you don’t!” 

“ _ Yes,  _ I  _ do! _ ” Draco snarled. Harry was quiet. “Can we please not talk about this? Let’s go play in the snow with Teddy.” 

Harry quietly obliged, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Draco’s trial. Draco  _ needed  _ Harry, didn’t he? How was Draco going to do it on his own? So what if it was biased if Harry was present, as long as Draco was safe. He couldn’t get the mental image of Draco going to the trial and never coming back out of his head. As he wrestled with Teddy to get his boot on, he thought of Draco’s face as he was being dragged away to Azkaban. Harry put on Teddy’s winter coat and wondered if anyone would even bother to tell him that Draco was gone. He opened the door and pictured Astoria’s and Narcissa’s faces as one of the very, very few family members they had left was taken away. He saw Draco’s already skinny form rotting away in a cell that he  _ didn’t deserve to be in _ . And Harry decided he could not let this happen. 

Draco tried to enjoy the day as best he could, but no matter what he did or how he tried to distract himself, he couldn’t ignore the throbbing swell of anxiety in the center of his chest. 

He baked cookies. He taught Teddy how to play chess (which was difficult, because Teddy did not have a very long attention span. That, and he couldn’t speak. Because he was a baby…). He cuddled with Harry on the couch during Teddy’s naptime and he cleaned the house. Twice. 

But no matter what he did to convince himself that everything was going to be okay, he couldn’t help but think of his father the first and only time Draco had visited. It was a memory that never stopped haunting his mind, awake and asleep. 

_ Azkaban did not use dementors, after how quickly they changed their allegiance during the war. But that did not make the place any less miserable. In the memory, Draco’s father sat alone in a cage, similar to one in an animal-cruel zoo. He sat on the floor, his legs in an awkward position. There was no where else he could sit. He looked up at Draco with devastated, broken eyes that clung to him as if they didn’t believe he was there. Lucius’ hair was falling out in silver clumps, and his collarbone was going to poke through his thin skin at any moment. And no matter what he did, Draco couldn’t help but think about how similar he and this deranged man  _ who used to be his father _ looked and how that could  _ so easily _ be Draco. _

_ Trolls brainlessly walked back and forth between cages, which were stacked one on top of the next, lined up in rows and rows and rows of people. Humans. Not just humans. House elves. Giants. Things that lived and breathed and had blood running through their veins and who were  _ miserable _. Azkaban was not a place meant for reform. It was not a place meant for growth. It was a place where you sat, completely alone, and thought about everything you had ever done wrong until you silently died. And no one, no matter the crime, deserved to live like that.  _

_ In the memory, Draco bit back tears and held his mother’s arm, though he was much too old to be holding his mother’s arm. He had to be strong. For her. Her eyes had been closed the entire time, as if she could not bare to look at the horrors that had been bestowed on her life. Draco placed his other hand on the bar that separated him and his father. The man who used to be his father. The man leapt up and ravenously grabbed hold of Draco’s hand. Draco screamed and stumbled several feet backward, his mother screaming and stumbling with him. The two stood in the center of a cement hallway surrounded with cages and held each other, sobbing.  _

_ “Draco!” The man cried in a scratchy voice. He tried to cry, but he had no tears to give. “Draco, I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It’s me! Your father! Come back! I’m sorry!” He cried out.  _

_ But Draco and his mother did not come back. They ran away. _

_ They ran away, past the endless rows of living beings who clung to the bars of their cages and cried to Draco and his mother. They cried out for their families. They cried out for the comfort of each other. They cried out for anything and anyone who could hear them and feel sympathy for creatures like them.  _

“Draco,” Harry whispered, rubbing the side of his arm. 

Draco woke with a start and a gasp. “What? What is it?” He looked around frantically before realizing he was still on the couch, nestled in Harry’s arms. He sighed softly and let his head fall onto Harry’s chest.  

Harry smiled softly. “Nothing. Just seemed like you’d had a bit of a bad dream,” he muttered. 

“‘Bad dream’ is a bit of an understatement,” Draco muttered under his breath. 

“Want to talk about it?” 

“Nope. No. Absolutely not,” Draco grumbled. “Just a little… anxiety… is all. Probably because of all of those cookies I ate before drifting off. You know- causing strange dreams. From the sugar.” 

Harry nodded, but he was unconvinced. “Right. What do you want to do?” He asked. 

Draco rolled over, so his knees were between Harry’s and he was leaning over him. Draco then carefully combed his fingers through Harry’s hair, pulling it this way, shaping it that way, and doing a whole lot of flattening. 

“If this is what it’s going to be like being your boyfriend, I’m just going to shave my head,” Harry laughed, swatting Draco away and messing it up again.

“Woah. Hey. Boyfriend?” Draco asked. 

Harry’s cheeks flushed. “Well… yes. I assume so, after what we did last night. But if you don’t want it to be like that, than I don’t mind. Well… actually, I do. Because I really like you. And I think that-” 

“Stop embarrassing yourself, Potter,” Draco said. And for the first time that day, everything felt back to normal. “I was simply insinuating that I want a better proposal. Surely you don’t think you can shag me and all of the sudden we’re boyfriends. There’s more to it than that! I’m not easy, you know, Potter.” 

Harry sighed and pushed himself up. He was leaning against the arm of the couch with one leg draped off the side of the couch and one pressed against the back. One arm rested over the top of the couch and the other one had mindlessly fallen onto Draco’s knee. His sweater had mistakenly rolled up a bit, revealing his side and part of his stomach. His sleeves were pushed up to his elbows and his glasses were slightly crooked across his nose. Draco sat cross-legged in front of him, resting his shoulder sleepily on the back of the couch, hands folded in his lap expectantly. 

“Alright then,” Harry said, scratching the back of his head. “Draco, I want you to be my boyfriend.” 

“Go on,” Draco said, admiring his cuticles. 

Harry grinned. “I want you to be my boyfriend because I’ve been in love with you for a stupidly long time. No matter what I do, I can’t stop thinking about you. And the way you act like you’re better than everyone because you are. And the Draco who is perfect and polished and the Draco who is sly and relaxed. I feel in love with you in the dim lighting of the Three Broomsticks and I fell in love with the nasty looks you threw at people who looked at us funny and I fell in love with our walks back to the castle. I fell in love with potions and the stars and fireflies and parchment and the smell of books and the aesthetic of quills. I fell in love with the way you make your bed like a nest for you to sleep in every day and I fell in love with your hair when it’s wet and when it’s dry. I fell in love with you naked and with a towel wrapped around your waist and wearing a full set of clothes. And I fell in love with the moments you weren’t there but I couldn’t stop thinking about you and the way my heart beats in my chest and everything that is you. I fell in love with you.” 

Draco sighed dramatically. “How long did it take you to think that one up?”

“Weeks. And a midnight conversation with Hermione,” Harry said. “What do you say? Will you be my boyfriend?” 

Draco smiled. “You certainly know how to woo a man, that’s for certain, Potter. Yes, I’ll be your bloody boyfriend.” He said. 

Harry leaned up and kissed him lightly. “Great. I was really losing sleep over that one,” he said sarcastically. 

Draco rolled his eyes. “Speaking of sleep, I should like to resume my nap, now.” 

“I’m going to write a letter to Ron and Hermione. Don’t worry about Teddy, I’ll get him when he wakes up,” Harry said. Draco waved him away and Harry couldn’t help but grin as he slid off the couch and wandered into the kitchen. 

He pulled out some parchment from his rucksack and began to write. 

 

_ Hermione,  _

_ Happy Holidays!  _

_ Something’s happened with Draco, to say the least. I’ll explain the next time I see you, it might be to explicit for a letter…  _

_ Needless to say, I’ve got to go to his trial tomorrow. He still doesn’t want me there, but I can’t stand to let him go alone. It’s not that I don’t think he can do it by himself, I know he can, but I think he’ll do better with me there. I know the judges will be biased if I’m there, but it’s worth it if I get to know he’s safe.  _

_ I’ll return to the Burrow tonight, but I’m going to go to the trial tomorrow morning.  _

_ From,  _

_ Harry  _

 

He copied the note to Ron and send the letters off with Andromeda's owls. His stomach swelled with guilt, but he couldn’t let Draco to this on his own. He didn’t have to be alone! Couldn’t he see that? 

Harry then sat in the kitchen for a while with Teddy’s muggle baby monitor. About half hour later, Draco woke up and wandered over. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” Harry asked. 

Draco sighed and started to make himself some tea. “No,” he said and sat across from Harry. They stared at each other for several moments. “Put your hair up, Potter. You look like a hippie with it down,” Draco finally said.  

Harry grinned and that alone was enough to make Draco smile. 

“I hate you,” Draco said, covering his smile with his hands. 

“No, I don’t think you do,” Harry said. He cocked his head to the side like a puppy. “In fact, I think you’re rather obsessed with me. And you have been for years.” 

“Tosser!” Draco spat. Harry leaned across the table, grabbed Draco’s face, and kissed him. Draco shoved him away. “Don’t kiss me until you shave your face, you roughian. It’s like kissing a tree.” 

Harry rubbed his chin. “You don’t think it’s sexy?” 

“You look like a lumberjack.” 

“A sexy lumberjack?” 

Draco thought about it for a moment. “No,” he finally said. “I know this might be appaling to you, Potter, but you’re not a remotely attractive human being.” 

“Oh, I’m not?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. He rested his brown chin in his palms. 

“You’re absolutely repulsive. You’re lucky I loathe myself so much right now that I can allow myself to be in the same room as you. In reality, I’m so out of  your league that you’re a house elf to me. Actually- that’s mean to house elves.” 

“Mhm?” Harry said, sipping from his mug. “Do go on.” 

Draco sighed and squinted his eyes, pretending that it was difficult for him to look Harry in the face because it was simply too awful a sight. “Your hair is a disaster. I hate the way how the bottom half is shaved. You look like you’re about to tell me some life changing slam poetry about a girl and her dog. And you really ought to shave, you’ve got more whiskers than the cat I don’t have. Your eyes are too green- like a fresh pickled toad. I hate toads  _ and  _ pickles, so your eyes are like poison to me. The color of your skin is too flattering. It goes with any color, but you don’t deserve to be able to wear every color. I hate it.” He took a long sip from his tea without breaking eye contact. 

Harry sighed and nodded. “You’re right. You’re too good for me.” 

Draco scoffed. “I’ll never be too good for you, Harry Potter.” He felt Harry reach across the table and hold his hand. “I’m very comfortable with public displays of affection,” Draco said uncomfortably, with drawling his hands. 

Harry rolled his eyes. “We aren’t in public and you’re just fine with kisses,” he said. 

“You’re a puppy,” Draco said. “You demand attention 100%  of the time and you’re obsessed with physical contact.”

“Oh, good. Puppies are cute.” 

“I’m a cat person.” 

“Right. You’re a crazy cat lady. I nearly forgot,” Harry said. Draco smiled, and Harry’s heart still raced about a million miles per hour. 

\--

Andromeda came back after Harry and Draco had fed Teddy dinner and put him to bed. Her arm was in a sling, but she seemed otherwise unfazed. 

“I hope he wasn’t too much trouble,” she said in a hushed voice. 

Harry and Draco glanced at each other for a millisecond. “Absolutely not, Mrs. Tonks. We’ll come back any time you need us,” Harry said. “How was your treatment?” 

She sighed and glanced at the sling. “I hope it went well. It’s going to be rather hard to raise a toddler with one arm.” 

“We’ve got four extras if you ever need them, Aunt Andromeda,” Draco said. 

She smiled. “You two got along then?” 

Both boys worked very hard not to laugh. “Of course,” Harry said. 

“Where did you two end up sleeping?” She asked, setting her bag down. 

“The guest room,” Harry and Draco said at the same time. Both  of their faces glowed pink. 

“Er- Draco slept in the guest room. I slept on the couch,” Harry said quickly. 

Andromeda chuckled and nodded. “I won’t tell anyone,” she said, her eyes going from Harry to Draco. “I know I nearly walked in on you two snogging. I won’t tell your mother, Draco, but only if you don’t tell her about the sling. She doesn’t need anything more to worry about, I’m afraid.” 

Draco’s face was the color of a ripe tomato. “I promise, Aunt Andromeda.” 

“Good. Now go home, you two. And don’t stay up too late!” She said. 

Harry walked outside with Draco before they apparated back to their respective houses. Harry took Draco’s pale hands in his. “Hey. You’re going to do amazing tomorrow. Don’t worry. I know you’ve changed, that much is obvious,” he said softly. 

Draco smiled at the ground. “Thanks, Potter. It means a lot.” He couldn’t meet Harry’s eyes. He didn’t know if it was obvious. The Ministry didn’t look at him the same way Harry did, how could they know? 

“Write me as soon as the trial’s over,” Harry demanded.

“Damn, you’re needy,” Draco said. But he still couldn’t meet Harry’s eyes. 

Harry grinned. “Goodnight. I love you. You’re going to win tomorrow, I just know it.” 

Draco didn’t know how he could be so optimistic, but he kissed him. “Goodnight, Potter,” he said. And then, he disapparated before Harry could say anything else that might make him cry. 

Harry sighed and watched the stars for a moment before he apparated to the Burrow. He wasn’t in the house for five minutes before Ron seized him by the shirt and threw up up five flights of stairs with Ginny at his heels. 

“ _ What happened with Malfoy? _ ” Ron demanded. “Wait- do I want to know? I don’t think I do. You got Hermione all upset. She called me with that fire thing- we’ve got to talk to her. She’s calling again in like two minutes.  _ What the bloody hell happened? _ ” 

“We’ve been placing bets all night,” Ginny said. “I bet you shagged, but Ron doesn’t think you got past second base.”

Harry laughed and ran his hand through his hair, looking up at the ceiling. 

“Oh,” Ron said. “ _ Oh. OH! _ No. You didn’t- you  _ did!  _ Where the fuck is Hermione?” He said. 

“Calm down, Ron!” Ginny said. 

“I’m here!” Hermione’s voice called from the fire. Her face was pressed in the embers, and it looked as if her hair was on fire.

“Oh, thank Merlin!” Ron said. He slid on his knees until he was in front of the fire. Ginny rolled her eyes and followed him. 

“Hi, Hermione!” Ginny said brightly. “Happy holidays!”

“You too, Ginny!” Hermione chirped. “Now Harry, tell us everything! Start from the beginning!” She demanded. 

Harry buried his face in his hands and laughed again. “I’m so- he’s just- man, guys. Well we got  there and we were just standing there smiling at each other for like ten minutes. And then we gave each other our Christmas presents and he got me this potions kit and it’s absolutely perfect because it’s so plain but he  _ knows  _ me and he- I- man. And then, we hung out for a bit and we put Teddy to bed and then we- we-” Harry laughed again. 

“You  _ what _ ?” Hermione, Ginny and Ron shouted. 

“We talked for like five minutes and I- we- I- well, first I was like ‘hey the other night when we were saying goodbye it looked like you wanted to do something, what was it?’ because I was trying to get him to kiss me. But he was like ‘I dunno what you’re talking about’ even though he totally did. And then I kissed him,” Harry said. 

“ _ You kissed him _ ?” Hermione shrieked. 

Ginny giggled like this was the funniest thing she had ever heard. 

“Nice, mate!” Ron said and high-fived Harry.  

“What happened next?” Hermione asked. 

Harry’s cheeks glowed bright pink. He put his face in his hands and looked up. “Well… we snogged for a bit and then we moved up to the guest room. And that is where it got to explicit for letters.” 

Ron was staring at Harry with  his jaw dropped to the floor and Hermione looked like she wished the fire would burn her to ashes already.

“I KNEW IT!” Ginny shouted. “You owe me five knuts, Ron!” She sang. 

“What did you do? Were you on top or was he? How does that work? Did you do like… butt stuff?” Ron asked, ignoring his sister. 

“ _ Ron! _ ” Hermione scolded. 

Harry couldn’t keep a straight face. “There was butt stuff,” he said. His best friends all screamed. Harry roared with laughter. “I’m going to be sore for days, I think.” Hermione screamed again and Ron hit him with the heaviest thing he could find, which happened to be a pillow. Ginny was laughing too hard to do anything other than wipe tears from her eyes. 

“Oi. Go on! What happened after all that?” Ron asked once they had recovered. 

“We went to bed. And the next morning, I asked him if I could come to the trial and he said no. He wants to do it on his own, which I don’t understand. He needs me there were him! I can speak for him and defend him! But he doesn’t want me there,” Harry said.

“And you’re going anyway,” Hermione muttered. “Harry, I don’t think you should betray his trust like that.”

Harry sighed. “But he needs me there! What if they don’t think he’s changed. They can’t send him to Azkaban if I’m there.” 

Hermione nodded. “That’s why he doesn’t want you there, Harry! You can’t do this for him. Your time for fighting is over, it’s his turn. During the war, when you went to meet Voldemort in the woods, Ron and I didn’t know if you were going to come back alive. But we let you go because it was something you had to do. And you did die! Kind of. But it was all alright in the end because you did what you had to do and Ron and I didn’t interfere. This is like that. We don’t know that Draco will come back alive, but this is something he needs to do on his own and I don’t think you should go play hero for him.” 

Harry looked at Ron for help, but Ron only shrugged. “I dunno, mate. I think you should listen to Hermione. When has she been wrong?” 

“He needs me!” Harry insisted. 

“He doesn’t need you to be his hero, though,” Hermione said. “He needs you to tell him he’s going to do well and to hold him when it’s over. Draco’s strong and he’s clever, he’s not some kid who needs you to fight his battles for him.” 

They were quiet for several moments, watching Harry think. 

“He can’t do this alone,” Harry finally said. 

Ron sighed and scratched the back of his head. “Listen, mate. I’m not going to stop you from going, but here’s what I think. Draco  _ can  _ do it alone because he’s not really alone. He’s got his mum there with him. He might love you, but that doesn’t mean you have to be every part of his life. Like I know Hermione loves me, and she knows I love her, but we both know we need to be with our families for the holidays. I’m allowed to spend the holiday without her by my side. Do I wish she was here? Yes. But I know she needs to be with her family and I need to be with mine. You might love Draco, but he’s allowed to do things without you, see?” He asked. 

“No,” Harry said. 

“You don’t need to save the day every time, Harry!” Ron said. “Draco’s been through a lot all of his life, and he probably feels like he can’t do anything on his own. He needs to be his own superhero now.” 

“Brilliantly said, Ron,” Hermione said. “He needs to be his own superhero now.” 

Harry grimaced. “I know, I just- I can’t let him go on his own!” 

Hermione and Ron exchanged wary looks. 

Ginny cleared her throat. “Okay, because you seem to be ignoring what Hermione and my brother have said so eloquently, I’m going to tell you the truth right now, Harry Potter. Draco. Doesn’t. Need. You. He doesn’t need you to be at this trial. He doesn’t. And if you go, you’re going to screw up everything that’s happened between you two from September until today, and even before September. If you break his trust, he might never forgive you again. He can handle the trial on his own. And I understand that you want to be there for your precious boyfriend, but the costs outweigh the benefits. Don’t do it,” she said. 

Her words went in one of Harry’s ears and out the other. 

“Okay,” Harry said, just to shut her up. 

“You’re going, aren’t you?” She asked. 

“I have to!” 

Ginny groaned, Ron fell back onto the floor, and Hermione let out an exaggerated sigh. 

“I’m going to bed, Harry. When you mess up your relationship with your boyfriend of one day, don’t come crying to us,” she said.  She smiled at the frustrated look on Harry’s face one last time before making her way to the doorway. “Also, you two have been living in here for two days. How does it  _ already  _ smell likes socks?” She asked.  

Ron smirked. “One of our many talents,” he said and high-fived Harry again. 

“Oh, I’m so glad I’m with my family,” Hermione muttered. “Anyway, Harry, what happened after you guys talked about the trial?” She asked after Ginny had left. 

Harry leaned back and thought for a moment. “We played with Teddy in the snow for bit which was… nice. And then we put Teddy down for a nap and we sat on the couch for a bit and Draco sort of fell asleep on me.” 

“Aw!” Hermione cooed, causing Harry’s face to glow pink again. 

“Yes, only I think he was having a bit of a nightmare. He was twitching and stuff and he started yelling at one point and I woke him up. When I asked him about it, he said the cookies he ate earlier were probably making him have weird dreams or something. He wouldn’t talk about it at all.” 

“You think it was about the trial?” Hermione asked. 

Harry shrugged. “What else could it have been? I dunno, I just thought that now that things are different between us, he wouldn’t hide things from me anymore.” 

“Draco’s been hiding things his entire life, Harry. Sleeping with him isn’t going to make everything change immediately,” Hermione said. 

“Has he ever really confided in you before?” Ron asked.

Harry scratched his head. “Once or twice maybe. And that night when we talked about fireflies. But I just figured he had nothing to say,” he said. “But if he loves me, he should be able to tell me anything, right?” 

Hermione shook her head. “Not necessarily. Besides, did he ever really say he loved you?” She asked. 

“No. I said it to him, though,” Harry said. 

“Fuck, mate,” Ron muttered. “And he didn’t say it back?” He asked. 

“Well, it was while Teddy was napping and we were on the couch. I called him my boyfriend and he asked for a proposal so I told him I loved him then. And then he kind of mocked me and said he’d be my boyfriend, which I think is a marriage proposal as far as Draco Malfoy is concerned,” Harry explained. “Ugh, I really hate this! Can’t we point out the flaws in your love life now?” He asked. 

Ron laughed. “Good luck. Hermione and I are perfect.” 

Hermione rolled her eyes but made no attempt to argue. “I still don’t think you should go to the trial tomorrow, Harry. If he didn’t specifically say he loves you, it’s especially not worth it.” 

“But what if they bring up his study dates with me and they need me to testify?” Harry asked. 

“If he said ‘don’t go’, don’t go, mate,” Ron said. “You can’t have anything if you haven’t got trust.” 

“I thought you threw out that dating advice book!” Hermione scolded. 

“I did! That was something you said to me!” 

Harry shook his head. “I dunno, guys. I’m gunna sleep on it,” he lied. He was going to that trial. Draco couldn’t handle it on his own, and Harry had to show him that he didn’t have to. It was more than Draco passing the trial. It was about them working as a team, wasn’t it? 

“Okay,” Hermione said, but she was unconvinced. “Goodnight, Harry. Goodnight, Ron.” 

“Goodnight Hermione,” Harry muttered. 

“‘Night, love,” Ron said. He turned to Harry, a grin plastered on his face. “Bloody hell, I feel bad for your complicated relationship, but I’m really glad that mine is working out,” he said. 

Harry laughed and shoved him on the shoulder. “What would you do if you were in my situation? If Hermione was going to a trial tomorrow and she could be sent to Azkaban, and you knew that if you went she wouldn’t, but she told you not to go.” 

Ron sighed and climbed into his bed. “I dunno, mate. Hermione isn’t Malfoy, you know. But if I was you and I was dating Malfoy, which would be really weird but let’s just pretend for a minute, I wouldn’t go. I would trust him and trust his opinion and I wouldn’t go to his trial, but I would be outside of the building waiting for him to come out. Because if he said he could do it on his own, I would believe him,” he said. 

Harry didn’t say anything. 

“You’re going, aren’t you?” Ron asked. 

“Yeah,” Harry muttered. 

Ron sighed and shook his head. “I don’t think you’re doing the right thing, mate. But he’s your boyfriend, not mine.” 

And with that, Harry decided he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. 

 


	11. The Trial

Draco took a deep breath and rubbed his hands together, squeezing his eyes closed. He felt his mother’s hand on his back, steadying him as the elevator dropped one floor, two floors, three. After a century of falling, it opened up into the dark corridor. 

He was dressed in his maroon robes, the ones that made his grey eyes look slightly warmer. He let his blonde hair fall on his shoulders because he didn’t want to look like his father. 

He feared he was going to vomit. 

“It’s okay, my Draco,” Narcissa said softly as they walked down the corridor alone. “You’ve grown so much. They have to see that.” 

“I can’t change the past. I can’t change the past,” Draco muttered through his teeth. “What if they’re still biased against me?” He asked quietly. This corridor had never been this long. Or this dark. Or this lonely. 

Narcissa reached down and clutched her son’s hand. “You can’t change the past. Tell them that. But tell them that you’re changing your future. Tell them about Harry Potter.” 

“Mother!” Draco hissed. 

She smiled. “You become a different person when you talk about him, my Draco. You glow. Talk about how you’ve been studying with him, and how you spend time together even when you aren’t studying with him just because you like to. Talk about the Daily Prophet article, and talk about Teddy. Draco, if you talk about the things closest to your heart, you can’t lose,” she said. They stopped in front of the two black doors, that never looked taller. “I believe in you,” she whispered. “I love you.” 

Draco bit his lip. He turned around and hugged his mother. “Thank you, Mother. Because I don’t say it to you enough. Thank you for always being here with me. Thank you for supporting me through everything I’ve ever done, even if it was against what you believed in. I love you.” 

“This isn’t goodbye, Draco,” she told him, but he could feel her hot tears run down his neck as they held onto each other. “If there is one thing I’ve learned about you, it is that  _ you are not your father. _ ” 

Draco choked back a sob and let go. Narcissa’s old, frail hand wiped a tear from his cheek. 

“You’re too young,” she said. She was shaking. 

“So are you,” Draco said with a smirk.

His mother sobbed and covered her mouth with her wrinkled hand. “Go.” 

He nodded and squeezed her hand one last time before pushing the door open. He silently entered the hollow room and took his place in front of the Chief Warlock, Ernest Hawkworth. 

“Good morning, Mr. Malfoy,” Hawkworth said, casting a silence amongst the group of people in the room. 

“Good morning, Chief Warlock Hawkworth,” Draco said in his strongest voice. He wanted to sound confident, but not cocky, which was a very difficult voice for him to accomplish. 

The Chief Warlock watched him for a moment. Draco wasn’t sure if he should maintain eye contact or look at the ground. He made his best attempt to smile warmly at the menacing man, who made a sort of grimace in response. 

Hawkworth cleared his throat, though the room was already silent. “Good morning, my fellow members of the Wizengamot and whomever else it may concern. Today, we are gathered here to decide the fate of a Mr. Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy. In August, Mr. Draco Malfoy was told that he could redeem himself from his dark ways if he attended the Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry for his eighth year. He was given until this day to prove himself a good student and a better human being. If can not prove to us that he deserves to stay at Hogwarts, he will join his father in Azkaban,” he said. He looked around the room to be sure that everyone was in agreement. They wanted Draco to fail. “Our first speaker is Minerva McGonagall. Headmistress McGonagall, you have the floor.” 

Draco hadn’t even noticed  McGonagall until she walked steadily out of a dark corner of the room and into the center. She smiled at Draco for a moment before proceeding to address the Wizengamot. “Good morning, Chief Warlock Hawkworth. As you may know, I have been Mr. Malfoy’s transfiguration teacher since he was eleven, and this year I have assumed the position  of both being his Headmistress and his head of house. Mr. Hawkworth, believe me when I say that this boy has changed. I also taught his father, mind you, and I can also say that this boy is not his father. When Draco was young, he had so much bitterness in his eyes. He wanted friends, and he wanted his father to be proud of him. So he did what his father told him so that maybe one day he’d be proud. But this year, I’m very proud to say that Mr. Malfoy has changed his ways. I always knew that he was  _ not  _ evil. All he had to do was get rid of that father of his and do things on his own, and he has. Draco Malfoy is second in his class, second to only Hermione Granger. He doesn’t let anything keep him from his studies. Not emotional or family problems, not problems with his friends, nothing. 

“And this year in particular, I’ve paid great attention to his friendships. One in particular, which is that with Harry Potter. Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter never got along as children, but this year, that has certainly changed,” McGonagall said. 

The Wizengamot shuffled uncomfortably and muttered to each other. 

“If I may continue,” McGonagall said, “I might note that the two have become rather inseparable. Two times a week they study together, and Mr. Malfoy helps Mr. Potter with his potions work, though I do wish he would help him with transfiguration as well,” she said with a small smile that only Draco caught. “Recently, I’ve observed them go for walks in the castle together and sit together during meals. I’ve been trying to encourage house unity this year, and I am extremely proud to say that Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter are clear evidence that I have succeeded. 

“In conclusion, Draco Malfoy has changed. He is not his father, and he is no longer his father’s son. He is friends with his father’s enemy. He is second in his class, and he is not hesitant to help a student in need. Draco Malfoy does  _ not  _ belong in Azkaban, and I believe I should have to duel every single one of you if you believe he does,” she finished. And then, she did something Draco did not expect at all. She turned around and hugged Draco with all of her might. 

“Th- thank you, Professor,” he said, tears returning to his eyes. 

She held him by the shoulders and smiled. “You are not going to Azkaban, not on my watch, Mr. Malfoy,” she said. “You received an O on that essay the other day, by the way. Excellent, as always.” 

Draco let himself laugh. “Thank you, Professor, but forgive me if I say that essay was not my biggest concern this week,” he said. She smiled and squeezed his shoulder before returning to her spot in the corner. 

The Chief Warlock let out a heavy sigh. “Right. I’ll let the Wizengamot discuss for a moment before we proceed with our next speaker.” 

Despite everything McGonagall had said, judgemental looks remained frozen on the faces of the people seated behind Hawkworth. They whispered to each other, with disgusted glances at Draco from behind scrolls of parchment. There were so many, Draco could hear exactly what they were saying, but he managed to catch an earful of ‘Lucius Malfoy’ and ‘can’t be trusted’, which was enough to make him wish he hadn’t listened. 

“All quiet,” Hawkworth said in a drone that said he didn’t care if they were quiet or not. “Draco Malfoy, you have this time to say what you will to defend yourself. Why have you changed?” He asked.

Draco took in a deep breath. “I’d just like to start out by saying that I am deeply sorry for my past actions. I honestly am. I’m sorry for all of grief my ex-colleagues and I might have caused you and your families, and the families of every creature on this planet,” he said. He made eye contact with several people before continuing. “Since I last saw you in August, I’ve been meeting with a therapist, and that’s been a key point in my recovery. Something that therapist has told me and ingrained in my mind is that I can not change my past. I can’t. But I accept it. I did do all of those awful things you have accused me of, and I am genuinely sorry for them. I have never denied that they happened, nor will I ever. But I do not deny that I have changed. I can not change my past, but I can change my future. And I have. I have made a stronger relationship with my mother and we understand each other much better. I have remained second in my class, despite all of the cruelty I am receiving on the streets. And I have achieved a friendship with perhaps my greatest enemy, Harry Potter.” 

“Mr. Draco Malfoy, a question, if I may,” Hawkworth interrupted. 

Draco bowed his head. “Please ask, Chief Warlock Hawkworth,” he said softly.

“You and Headmistress McGonagall speak a great deal of your friendship with Mr. Harry Potter. If this is true, why is he not here supporting you, his dear friend?” He asked. 

“Harry Potter desperately wanted to come, sir, but I would not let him,” Draco said. “I spoke with him yesterday. His godson is my cousin’s son, and we were watching him together. Harry begged to come and defend me, but I would not let him because I want him to be able to enjoy his holiday. And I want to prove that I can do this on my own. I am no longer a child in need of my father’s help. I can do this on my own.” 

“If there is no evidence of this relationship with Harry Potter, how are we to believe what you are saying is true?” Hawkworth asked. 

Draco rubbed his moist hands on his robes. “I swear to Merlin I am telling the truth, sir. I consent to taking veritaserum if it is your wish. But I also might point out that there was an article in the Daily Prophet about Harry Potter and I that could serve as evidence if my word is not enough.” 

“I am sorry, but your word and that of a catchy news article is not enough. For me to believe your relationship with Harry Potter is real, Harry Potter himself must confirm,” Hawkworth said. 

There was a deafening silence throughout the room. Draco could hear his heart pounding in his ears. This was it. It hadn’t been enough. Everything he had done the past three months had been for nothing. He would never see Harry, or Teddy, or his mother, or Andromeda ever again. 

“I confirm!” Called a voice from the back of the room. And no one but Harry-fucking-Potter came out from the shadows in the back of the room. 

“What are you doing here?” Draco hissed, his heart pounding even harder. 

“Saving your ass!” Harry insisted. He ran over to where Draco was sitting and put his hand on Draco’s shoulder. 

“I’ve got this completely under control, Potter,” Draco hissed in his ear. 

“No, you haven’t. I’m saving you. Shut up now,” Harry insisted. 

“Mr. Potter,” Hawkworth said, still in shock. “This is a private trial! How did you get in here?” He asked. 

Harry smirked. “You might want to update your security, sir. I walked in through the front door. That statue you’ve got of me in the entrance hall probably helped a bit. It’s very flattering, I must say.” 

“I’m actually going to kill you,” Draco hissed. 

“I would like to speak on behalf of Draco Malfoy,” Harry said. Hawkworth bowed his head, because he was too speechless to do anything else. “I haven’t really prepared anything, but here I go. Don’t send Draco Malfoy to Azkaban. If you do, I will most certainly fail potions. And all of my other courses. Because Draco Malfoy is my b- one of my closest friends, and I don’t know that I’d be able to get through the school year without him. He’s there for me when I can’t think straight and I need to walk aimlessly around the castle to clear my head. He’s there for me when my two other friends are off being in love or whatever and I need someone to keep my company. He’s there for me when I just need to talk about my problems for three straight hours, and he’s there for me when I need someone to explain the use of lavender extract to me for three straight hours. If he wasn’t a good person before, he most certainly is now,” Harry said. 

“I can’t stand you,” Draco whispered. 

Harry put his arm around Draco’s shoulders and Draco tried not to look like he wanted to rip Harry’s arm out of its socket. “I didn’t save the world so you could throw one of my closest friends in prison. I didn’t die and come back to life to see my school and everyone who lives in it suffer,” Harry continued. “So, please, I beg you, do  _ not  _ throw this boy in Azkaban. If anyone should be in Azkaban, it’s me. I’ve lost count of every law I’ve broken and got away with. Give Draco a break.” 

Hawkworth blinked several times, shook his head, and rubbed his temples. “Alright, then, Mr. Potter. I- er- wizengamot, please take a moment to discuss this.” 

“Did you miss me?” Harry asked once the noise in the room was enough to cover their conversation. 

Draco knew he was still being watched, so he did not hit Harry or hex him or do any of the things he desperately wanted to do. “No!” He hissed. “You absolute prick, I told you not to come! I don’t want you to fight my battles for me, Potter!” 

Harry looked offended, as if he hadn’t actually expected Draco to be mad. “But… I shaved,” he said, rubbing his smooth chin. “And these are my nice robes.” 

“ _ It’s not about the robes, Potter! _ ” Draco snarled. He put his face in his hands and spun around for a moment, trying to imagine that Harry Potter wasn’t standing behind him. He took a deep breath and faced reality again . “You betrayed my trust! I can’t believe I thought I could actually trust you, Harry-fucking-Potter, for one moment. I’m so stupid,” Draco said. 

Harry grabbed his hand. “Hey! You aren’t stupid.” 

“Don’t touch me,” Draco snapped, yanking his hand back. “Don’t make a scene, I’m still being watched.” 

“You’re mad at me?” Harry asked.

Draco laughed. “Yes, I’m mad at you! This is me, being mad at you! I am  _ furious  _ with you, Harry Potter! I know this is something you’ve never experienced before, because you’re the famous Harry Potter who can just waltz through the front doors of the Ministry of Magic beside the giant bronze statue of himself  and do whatever the bloody hell his wants, but I promise, you will get through it,” he said. He stared at Harry for a moment, daring him to tell him this was all a joke. But he didn’t. “Merlin’s beard- I can’t believe you! But I was even worse! I actually  _ trusted  _ you! Fuck, I’m so stupid. I should’ve just shagged Blaise and pretended I was done with guys for the rest of my life, but  _ no  _ I just  _ had  _ to go for Harry-fucking-Potter. Harry Potter, who doesn’t need to listen to anything anyone says because he’s famous. Harry Potter, who is allowed to betray people’s trust because he just has to remind them he died for them and everything will be okay again!” 

“Draco!” Harry said. 

“You know, for once I thought I knew Just Harry. I thought I knew a nice, funny, brilliant guy named Harry Potter. But I guess I didn’t, because you’re Harry Potter, the great and mighty, and mundane mortal relationship rules don’t apply to you. Ugh! I hate myself so much. I was so happy,” Draco said. His nails sliced into his palms like daggers. His vision began to cloud with red. “I was so fucking happy when I was with you yesterday. Merlin- I was on cloud 9. I thought I had a boyfriend who would love me and respect me, even if I didn’t deserve it, but I was wrong. And I do deserve this. I’m so stupid.” 

“We have reached a decision!” Hawkworth announced. The room fell silent. “Those in favor of letting Draco Malfoy free, please raise your hands.” 

Draco couldn’t look. His vision was plastered to the floor. He didn’t want to be here anymore. He wanted to go home. 

“Very well then,” Hawkworth said. “Draco Malfoy, you are free to go.” 

Draco nodded. “Thank you very much, sir. You will not regret this decision,” he said. And then he ran for it. He ran out of the closest door and down the corridor until he found his mother pacing anxiously. Then, he took her in his arms and they apparated without a word. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehehehehehehehehehehehe  
> If you can't tell, I loooooooove Narcissa Malfoy. First of all, we have matching flower names! Second, I think Draco gets a lot of his ability to redeem himself for her. She's a great character to write about because it's just so open. I also think for me as an author, it's important to use her to show how old age can be beautiful. Old age doesn't have to be ugly, the same way it is with so many older women in society. In Disney movies, all of the villains are typically older women. It's important to have someone like Narcissa and Andromeda to show us we have room to grow, even once we're older, and we can still be beautiful! 
> 
> How did you feel about Draco's reaction? What would you have done in his position? Do you think he was right in the way he acted? What do you think Harry's going to do to fix it, and how will Draco react to that??
> 
> I absolutely loooooved your comments for the last two chapters. You guys have incredible insight and some great predictions that I hadn't even considered! Sorry I was late responding to them, I had a very busy weekend. This week I have Friday and next Monday off from school, so I'll be around more! 
> 
> Thanks as always! You guys are amazing!  
> Lily


	12. The Aftermath

“It was that bad, huh?” Ron asked, watching Harry as he paced back and forth in their bedroom with his head in his hands. 

“Told ya so!” Ginny sang, admiring her nails. 

“You should’ve heard him!” Harry cried. “His voice! I messed up so bad!” 

Ron climbed off his bed and let Harry awkwardly walk into his extended arms. “It will be alright, mate. Why don’t we make tea and call Hermione and then you can talk about your feelings. Would you like that?” 

“I don’t deserve it!” Harry said into Ron’s shoulder. 

“Alright, mate,” Ron muttered uncomfortably. “Ginny, be a dear and go make us some tea,” he said. 

Ginny chuckled and hopped off of Harry’s bed. “I just want you both to know that this is hilarious, and you  _ both  _ sound exactly like Mum,” she said, gesturing to the boys. “I wanted to make tea anyway. Luna sent me enchanted herbs for Christmas, and I can’t wait to try them out!” She said as she left. 

Ron spent nearly twenty minutes attempting to figure out how to communicate with Hermione via the fireplace and wound up accidentally taking the floo network to Hermione’s parents house, which was a feat on it’s own, because her parents weren’t connected to the floo network. Ten minutes later, he and Hermione arrived on the balcony with a loud ‘pop’. 

“Hermione?” Harry muttered, opening the door to let them in. 

She sighed and hugged him. “Oh, Harry. You’re a complete mess. See what happens when you don’t listen to us?” 

Ginny brought them all enough tea of various flavors to last the rest of the afternoon and well into the night. Harry did his best to describe the events of the morning, starting with how he walked into the Ministry. He told them about McGonagall’s speech, and Draco’s, and his own. He told them how Draco had gotten angry with him and how he ran when the trial was over. 

“Damn. He really said that?” Ron asked, sipping his tea. 

“You should’ve heard the hurt in his voice,” Harry said. “It was like he wasn’t even mad at me, he was mad at himself.” 

“He probably was!” Hermione said. “He spent years  _ loathing  _ you, and the second he lets himself be romantic with you for even just a moment, you go and give him a reason to loathe you again.” 

Harry sighed and tried to drown himself in tea. 

Ginny shifted from her spot on the floor and sighed. “Want to hear my opinion? Even though I know you’ll probably ignore it.” 

“I won’t ignore it.” 

“Yeah, right. Well, I think you should go to him. Talk it out. If there’s anything Harry Potter is good at, it’s uncomfortable confrontations that no one is ready for. Because moping around here isn’t going to do anything but make me feel gross and then I’ll have nothing fun to tell Luna after the holiday is over,” Ginny said. 

“I dunno, shouldn’t Harry give him time to be with his mother? They’ve been through a lot,” Hermione said. 

Ginny shrugged. “I mean sure, but chances are, Draco’s as worked up about this as Harry is. And he’s probably blaming himself when he doesn’t have to.” 

Harry got to his feet and handed Ron his mug. “I’m going.” 

“Wait, Harry!” Hermione said. “Don’t go barging in there like you own the place! That’s what got him mad in the first place, isn’t it? You have to give him the option not to talk to you.” 

“Yeah, mate, don’t go in there pretending you’re going to save the day,” Ron added. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry demanded. 

Hermione sighed and leaned into Ron’s shoulder. “It means just be yourself. Be Just Harry. That’s the Harry he liked, and that’s the Harry that’s going to fix things. Don’t put on the Great and Mighty act, because it’s just not you, and if you go in there acting like that, it’s just going to be worse. Go in there and try to fix things, but listen to Draco. Let him talk.” 

Harry nodded. “Alright. Alright,” he muttered to himself. He threw on his sweater and got ready to go. 

\--

Draco sat in the sitting room with his head in his hands. His shoulders shook, but no tears fell from his eyes. Potter wasn’t worth shedding tears for. This had been Draco’s fault anyway! How could he have trusted Potter like that? 

“Draco, dear, you should be celebrating,” Narcissa said. 

He sighed and refused to look up. “I can’t, Mother. I don’t deserve to be here. I was supposed to go to Azkaban.” 

“But you didn’t,” Narcissa insisted. “Someone once told me that you can’t change your past, but you can be better in the future,” she said softly. “I know you’re mad, dear. I know you’re frustrated and I know you would very much like to hit Harry Potter with the strongest curses you know, but you’ve got to move forward. Don’t let yourself get caught in the past, my dear.” 

“Did he ever even love me?” Draco asked. “He couldn’t have. He just loved having someone to save. I was his little hobby, wasn’t I?”

Narcissa shook her head. “He has so much to learn, Draco.  You have to give him a chance to-” she was cut off by a loud knock coming from the door. She straightened herself, smoothed her dress, and made her way to the door. “Oh! Hello, Pansy, Blaise, Gregory,” she said politely, pulling the door open. “Draco’s just in here. He’s having a bit of an episode, I’m afraid.” 

“Go away! I want to be alone!” Draco shouted. 

He heard Pansy’s laughter. “No, you don’t! You crave attention,” she said. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Malfoy, we’ll fix him,” she insisted. 

Narcissa smiled and motioned for them to come in. 

“You aren’t in Azkaban!” Greg said, tackling Draco into a very strange hug. 

“Clearly not,” Draco huffed. 

“Come on, Draco. We’ll go up to your room and you can tell us everything that happened. Starting with babysitting Teddy,” Blaise said, with a wink that insinuated he knew everything that had happened when Draco babysat Teddy. 

Draco let his friends drag him up the staircase and into the privacy of his bedroom. There, he told them as much as he could without sobbing. He instantly wished he hadn’t, because Pansy  couldn’t be trusted with personal information, but he made her make an Unbreakable Vow that she wouldn’t tell anyone. 

“Asshole,” Blaise grumbled. 

“Oh, come on!” Pansy said. “You’ve got to admit, it’s very romantic. He left his friends and the closest thing he’s ever had to family just so he could save Draco!” 

“That’s what I hate about it!” Draco said. “I don’t want him to be the hero! All my life, people have been doing things for me and the one time I want to prove that I can do something on my own, Potter shows up and basically becomes the Minister of Magic or some shit. I didn’t want him there because I wanted him to wait outside those doors for me and celebrate with me when I won on my own! But I was so stupid. I believed that he’d actually listen to me and for once, not make it about himself. But he made it about himself. Like he always does.” 

“This was  _ not  _ your fault, Draco,” Blaise insisted. “Potter’s got to grow up and learn that he can’t fix everything.” 

There was a knock at the bedroom door as one of the few remaining house elves stuck her head in through the door. “Pardon me, sirs and ma’am, but there is a guest here for Master Draco. He would like to be speaking with Master Draco in privately, please,” she said softly. 

Draco glanced at his friends, who all looked moderately horrified. 

“If it’s Potter, scream,” Blaise said. 

Draco nodded and slowly made his way to the door. 

“Right this way, Master Draco,” the house elf said.  

Draco followed her through the house to one of the guest rooms he hadn’t entered in a year. He squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open. To his relief, he found no noseless man nor a giant snake. To his dismay, he found Harry Potter instead. 

“Hi,” Harry said.

“No. No. Nope. No. I’m not talking to you right now, and certainly not in this room,” Draco said, his hands shaking uncontrollably. 

“Come on, Draco! We have to talk about this!” Harry said. He looked like a wounded puppy. “Please. I can’t go back to being your enemy. Just… talk to me.” 

Draco took a deep breath. “Alright. Just- not here. Not in this room,” he said softly. He left the room and didn’t not turn to watch Harry scramble to follow him. Side-by-side they walked through the house. Then, Draco decided he couldn’t do this in his home, so he wandered outside into the snow. He walked until he reached the rose garden. In this weather, it looked morbidly beautiful. Brown vines and dead leaves climbed pristine white ladders that were whitewashed with a thin layer of snow. It was no longer snowing, but it was rather cold and Draco wished he had brought a jacket. 

“Well. What have you got to say for yourself?” Draco finally asked. 

Harry grinned. Draco did not. “You first,” Harry said.  

“What would you like me to say?” 

“Tell me what you’re feeling. What are you thinking?” 

Draco sighed and rubbed his cold hands together. “Well, for starters, I’m thinking that you shouldn’t be here. I’m thinking that it’s taking me everything I have not to punch in you in the face, Potter, but you are not worthy of my fist.” 

“You don’t mean that. I saved you,” Harry said. 

“Here’s a crazy notion, it might be a bit difficult for you to wrap your enormous head around it, but I’ll tell it to you anyway.  _ I did not want to be saved _ ,” Draco snarled. 

“I thought you didn’t want to go to Azkaban!” Harry said. 

Draco scoffed. “Of course I didn’t. You don’t seem to get it, do you? I wanted to do something on my own for once because my whole life, I couldn’t. I wanted to prove to them that I am not the same person as I was a year ago, because for once, I can make my own choices and solve my own problems. I wanted to show them that I couldn’t make what I did any better, but I could make my future better. And I really,  _ really  _ wanted to trust you, Harry! In a perfect world, I would go in there, say what I had to say, and walk out and you would be outside waiting for me. But clearly, I don’t deserve that,” he said. 

Harry nodded and started pushing the snow around with his shoe. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. 

“Do tell me what you’re sorry for, because I don’t believe any of that got through to you.” 

“I’m sorry that I betrayed your trust and that I didn’t let you handle it on your own. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you the way you wanted me to be and I’m sorry that you think you deserve this. Because you deserve so much more.” 

“How can you say that?” Draco scoffed. 

“Because it’s true!” Harry whined. 

Draco shook his head. “I don’t know if I can trust you anymore. I thought you were mine, and I thought I knew a side of you that so few people know. And you proved me wrong.” 

“I’m sorry,” Harry said. “You do know me like no one else! But I had to put on that act-” 

“No, you didn’t! Pardon my interrupting, but you did not need to put on the act. If you really  _ had  _ to come speak for me, which you didn’t, you could have registered at the front desk like everyone else has to. You could have stood beside McGonagall and waited for Hawkworth to call your name,” Draco said. “For someone who so desperately wants to be treated like everyone else, you sure do a  _ shit _ job of acting like it.” 

They were silent for several moments, staring at each other. Harry searched Draco’s eyes for something he could say that would redeem himself. Draco searched Harry’s eyes for something to make him angry. He wanted so very bad to be angry at Harry. 

Draco took a sharp breath and cupped his hand under Harry’s chin. He brought his lips to Harry’s, and instantly Harry kissed back. He slid his cold fingers onto Draco’s back, sending chills down Draco’s spine. It was unlike any kiss they had shared before. It was cold, breathless, and hungry. Draco nipped at Harry’s lip and Harry bit back. Draco was so cold, but Harry’s body felt so warm. But before they could do anything too explicit for letters, Draco shoved Harry away.   Both boys went tumbling several feet apart. 

“What was that?” Harry asked, smiling and breathless. 

“That was goodbye, Potter,” Draco said. He stood up and smoothed down his robes. Then, he walked back to his house. He didn’t enter until he was sure he heard a ‘pop’ and Potter was gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say I've had a really rough day and your comments and kudos and just general support has really cheered me up!!   
> I wrote the epilogue last night. Idk if I'm going to make it into a second book. I might if you guys want me too because I feel empty when I'm not writing Harry Potter fanfic hahaha. Idk if you guys know this, but I've been writing HP fanfics for six years straight, no breaks. I've grown so much as a writer! Let me know if you're interested in seeing what my writing was like when I was 11, but I'm warning you, you might want to jump out a window hahaha!   
> A lot of you guys sided with Harry after last chapter, which surprised me! You guys are NOT going to like the next few chapters hahaha. But I think you'll like the ending.   
> Thanks again for everything you guys do!!   
> -Lily


	13. Don't Talk

Ginny had nothing happy to tell Luna when they returned to school. 

Harry was miserable.

The dormitory had never been so quiet. Draco treated Harry as if he had some contagious terminal illness that Draco could not be bothered to catch or feel sorry for. The only time they were in the room at the same time was when they were asleep, and even then, Draco often left to study in the common room for hours during the night. Harry tried to talk to Blaise, but he would just solemnly shake his head and walked away. Even Ron seemed like he was too busy to speak to Harry some of the time. 

Potions was torture. Harry tried to talk and ask questions, but Draco would ignore him. On a good day, he would snarl  “Don’t talk to me, Potter!” and do the work himself. And Harry’s grades were certainly not getting any better. 

Wherever he went, Draco was surrounded by friends, so there was never a chance for Harry to get him alone. He just wanted to fix things, couldn’t Draco see that?

“Maybe you should just let it go, mate,” Ron whispered one night in the library. “I know it sucks, but we’ve got six months of school left and after that, you never have to see the slimy git ever again.” 

“But I want to see him,” Harry said. 

Hermione looked at Harry as if he was a puppy she had to put down. “He doesn’t want to see you, Harry. Besides, you should be focusing on school right now. Ron’s right, in a few months, we’re going to be on our own in the real world- and we won’t be hiding in a tent in the woods this time. You’re going to need to get good grades if you ever want a good job.” 

Harry sighed and bent over his transfigurations essay, pretending he was listening. 

“Don’t look now, but the ferret just walked in,” Ron whispered. 

“I have to talk to him,” Harry said and started to get up. 

Hermione grabbed his wrist. “No, you don’t. You have to sit here and finish your essay,” she ordered. Harry probably would have ignored her if her nails hadn’t been digging into him like talons. “ _ I’ll _ go talk to him,” she said suddenly. 

Ron scoffed. “Like hell you will!” He said. “I’ve still got half a potions assignment that I need your help on!” 

“Harry’s never going to stop moping until  _ something  _ happens. Besides, I’ve been meaning to ask him about a book I’ve been reading. I know he’s read it before and I want to know if he noticed the same thing I did,” Hermione said, pulling a novel out of her bag. “I’ll be right back. You two keep working.”

“What I wouldn’t give for a pair of extendable ears right now,” Ron muttered when she was gone. “If that prat lays a hand on my girlfriend, I’ll-” 

“Ron, he’s gay. Remember?” Harry said. “Blaise is looking over here. Pretend you’re helping me with this,” he hissed. Ron threw himself to the other side of the table to look over Harry’s shoulder. 

“Shit, Hermione’s coming back! Say something homework-related,” Ron whispered. 

“Are you sure that’s spelled correctly?” Harry said quickly. “I thought the i came before the e!” 

Hermione laughed. “Cut it out, you two. Since when have you cared about spelling?” She asked

“What did he say?” Harry hissed. 

“He agrees with me that the glasses represent wisdom and their tie to the adult world,” Hermione said, placing the book on the table beside her. Ron and Harry stared at her with wide, expecting eyes. “Oh, he didn't say anything about  _ you _ , Harry. I'm assuming he's still a bit angry, though. He seemed cross before I told him my reason for visiting.”

Ron groaned and Harry let his head fall to the table. 

“Harry, you need to let him be angry,” Hermione said, once the boys were done with their melodrama. “That’s just who Draco is. Let him be mad at you for a while until he gets it out of his system.” 

“What if he never gets it out of his system?” Ron asked. “ _ Then  _ can I beat him up for making Harry miserable?”

“Ron, you couldn’t beat up a pixie. He’s got to stop being mad eventually,” Hermione said. 

Harry sighed. “Yeah, but that could take years. I haven’t got years!” 

“Why not?” 

“Because I want him to like me again  _ now _ !” Harry whined. 

Hermione shook her head and put her books in her bag. “Come on. Go to bed. It will feel better in the morning.” 

Harry didn’t know what to do other than to listen to her. But when he and Ron returned to their room and said goodnight, Harry laid awake. He listened for Draco’s footsteps, staring blankly at the ceiling. Finally, when Harry  thought he couldn’t stay awake any longer, he heard Draco chuckling as he and Blaise entered the room.

“Merlin help you, Zabini,” Harry heard Draco’s muffled voice through the curtains around his bed. There was a thud as Blasie shoved Draco into something. “Asshole,” Draco chuckled. Then, there was a silence. 

“Oh, relax,” Blaise’s muffled voice came. “He’s asleep. It’s the dead of night, Draco. Potty needs his beauty sleep, after all.” 

“Bloody right,” Draco grumbled. “That boy is making me rip out my own hair, Blaise, I swear! He keeps looking at me like he’s a lion and I’m a bloody antelope or something! Can’t he take a hint? I’m not supposed to be with him.” 

“But you want to be.” 

“But I’m bloody furious! I can’t forgive him, Blaise.” 

“I’m not saying you should,” Blaise said nonchalantly. 

Draco sighed and Harry heard a thud and the shifting of covers as Draco got into his bed. “Fuck. I need a night out or something. I don’t want to think about that twat anymore.”

“Tomorrow night. It’s Friday, you, me, Pansy, and Greg. We’ll hit the town,” Blaise paused. “I bet we can make Pans pay for drinks if you cry a little bit-” 

“Blaise!” 

“Oh, come on! Just a little bit. Just while we’re walking there talk about how upset you are or something. She’ll be all over it.” 

Draco laughed. “Alright, you twat. G’night.” 

“Night.” 

Finally, Harry let his eyes close as he drifted off to sleep. 

…

Draco sighed with relief as he stepped out of the castle and felt the cool air run over him. It was refreshing. The dungeons were so cold compared to the comfort of his new common room, and he worried it was making him soft. Rosy cheeks from the warmth didn’t suit him. 

He didn’t wait for Pansy to finish putting her coat on before he marched out from beneath the archway that shielded them from the frigid February wind. Yes, this was what life was meant to be like. The cold air, Pansy’s shouts, and Blaise and Greg’s laughter. It was cold, but his smile warmed his entire body. Nothing mattered. 

“How does it feel to be a free man?” Blaise teased. 

Draco chuckled. “I’ll never really be free so long as Pansy’s around, Zabini,” he said. 

“I heard that!” Pansy shouted. She had her hands shoved so far down into her pockets that her elbows were just barely peeking out. “Whose bloody idea was this? Walking in the freezing cold to Hogsmeade.” 

“Greg’s,” Draco and Blaise said at the same time. 

Greg gasped and held his hand to his chest. “It was  _ not  _ mine! I’d rather be roasting like a marshmallow with the hufflepuffs than trek through the streets in this weather!” 

Blaise put a hand on his shoulder. “S’alright, Goyle. Don’t get your panties in a twist.” 

Draco watched his feet break into the frozen solid ground. There was no snow, just bitter cold. Draco was grateful for that, the snow reminded him of Potter. Well, everything reminded him of Potter. The path to Hogsmeade reminded him of the hundreds of times he walked it alongside Potter. The dark silhouette of the trees  bending in the wind reminded him of Potter’s bloody hair, and how it would never stay flat. Pansy’s green coat was the color of Potter’s eyes, and Blaise’s smirk was nothing compared to Potter’s. He was everywhere. But Draco would be damned if he let him save another night that wasn’t meant to be saved. 

“Let’s go bloody insane tonight,” Draco said, grinning. 

“There’s that cheeky smile,” Blaise said, grabbing Draco’s head and shaking it a bit. “There’s no love in those eyes! Just pure deviousness!” 

Draco laughed and hit his arm away. “Tosser,” he chuckled. 

“Okay, so clearly there’s an elephant in the room,” Pansy said suddenly. Draco froze and tried really hard not to scowl. “Oh, don’t act like that, you three. We can’t let Draco just bottle up his feelings.” 

“They aren’t bottled,” Draco said. “They’re in a book, and that book happens to be closed. And in the restricted section. So we aren’t going to open it.” 

Pansy sighed and a puff of white air disappeared from her mouth. “What’s your plan? You’ve got to tell us.” 

“My plan is to ignore the boy who lived until he becomes the boy who died. That’s it. End of story.” 

“That’s not healthy,” Pansy grumbled. 

“How is that not healthy? He deserves it! He betrayed my trust and he doesn’t listen to me and I shouldn’t have liked him and I did. He’s lucky if I even look his way in the afterlife. Yell at me for holding grudges all you want, but I’m not going to take it back. He deserves this.” 

Blaise put his arm around Draco’s shoulders. “He deserves this, but you sure as hell don’t,” he said. 

Draco swatted him off. “You won’t listen to me, either! I don’t want to talk about this! I want to go out and get so pissed that I don’t remember what bloody house I belong to, and I want to wake up so hungover tomorrow that you’ll have to take me to Madame Pomfrey and she can give me a strong ass potion to ease the bloody pain,” he snapped. “And  _ none of you  _ are going to tell my mother about any of this! Got it?” 

His friends were silent, which Draco took as a ‘yes’. 

And that’s where the memory began to get foggy. Draco remembered snippets, as if he was going through a photo album of memories. First, they went to one of the newer bars in  Hogsmeade. He remembered downing fire whiskeys by the shot until they were kicked out and forced into the next bar. He remembered that’s when he switched to beer, but the elf-made kind. The strong stuff. He had a faint memory of puking on Pansy and Blaise dragging him to the men’s room, where he puked a bit more, cried, and then had three more shots of firewhiskey. It was at this point that drinking was no longer fun. 

He remembered leaning heavily on Greg as they walked back to the castle and Pansy hushing him when he laughed too loudly. He remembered his friends pulling him into a hidden corridor when there was a professor passing by and he remembered that Potter was there and he remembered…  _ oh.  _

\-- 

All Harry had wanted that night was a quiet walk around the castle to clear his mind, but it just reminded him of his walk with Draco. He closed his eyes and took deep breathes and let the castle guide him. He only acted on impulse. Therefore, he hadn’t realized he was following the trail of laughter coming from behind the group of drunken Slytherins. He hadn’t realized that he left them and wandered into a corridor he had never seen before and he wasn’t quite sure how to get out of. 

There, he leaned against a wall and willed himself to go to sleep. He didn’t care if he missed his first class tomorrow or if Hermione and Ron spent all morning looking for him, he just wanted to rest his eyes. 

“Potter?” He was awoken by the highly dramatized exclamation of his name. 

Harry forced his eyes open to see Draco, Blaise, Greg Goyle, and Pansy gaping down at him. All of them drunker than ever. “Bloody hell,” Harry muttered. 

“Keep your voice down, Potter!” Pansy shouted. “We can’t let McGonagall catch us shit faced!”

“Right,” Harry muttered, but he was staring at Draco. And the weird part was, Draco was staring right back at him. “Are you alright?” Harry asked when he couldn’t stand the drunken silence anymore. 

“Suppose so,” Draco hiccupped. He gave Harry a sloppy grin and then his eyes widened to the size of the full moon. “Ya know what? No. ‘M not alright,  _ Potter _ !” He said, exaggerating the ‘P’ and trailing off at the end of the word. His head drooped a bit before he took a deep breath and looked up again. 

Harry shifted awkwardly. This corridor was very crowded with all five of them squeezed in there. It was very dark, there were no windows or lanterns, and the only light came from the crack in the doorway leading to this corridor and from Pansy’s wand. “What’s wrong?” Harry asked awkwardly. He tried to forget that Pansy, Blaise, and Greg were in there. 

Blaise laughed loudly. “ _ Don’t _ , Potter! You’ve caused- caused enough trouble!” He slurred. “C’mon, Draco! Let’s go t’ bed.” 

Draco shook his head. “No. No! You guys go. ‘M alright here,” he said. 

His friends were too drunk to argue and stumbled out of the corridor. 

“You think you’re slick, don’tchya, Potter,” Draco said, getting uncomfortably close to Harry. Harry could smell the whiskey in his breath. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Draco,” Harry said. “Let’s get you back to our room-” 

“Shut up, Potter. Who- WHO do you think you are, huh? Makin’ me all mad… and makin’ me feel like- like I can’t…  _ like  _ you anymore.  But then there you are. Makin’ me like you still even though you make me mad. You make me fuckin’ FURIOUS, Potter. But  _ fuck,  _ do I like  you,” Draco said. Harry was backed against the wall with Draco standing inches away from him. 

“Come on, Draco. I’m not going to talk to you while you’re like this,” Harry said. 

Draco grinned and leaned closer. “We don’t have to talk, Harry,” he said under his breath. Before Harry knew it, Draco had slammed his lips into his. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters with the same ending... saucy, huh?  
> Who's at fault here? Harry, for not forcing Draco to go to bed, or Draco, for initiating it despite being drunk? You'll see what the characters think in the next chapter!!  
> You guys have a lot of great points in the comments! Maybe I am being too harsh on Harry? But Draco can't help but end everything. I think he's trying to defend himself without realizing it. Harry's really trying! But when is it too much? Does Harry know how to let anything go?  
> We're in the homestretch now! Two more chapters and an epilogue after this!  
> Thank you so much for all of your overwhelming support!  
> -Lily


	14. Finally Defeated

Draco was very confused when he woke up the next morning. First of all, he was very sore in places that aren’t typically sore. His head hurt worse than it ever had before, and his entire person just generally felt like vomit. When he opened his eyes, the world was all too bright and the light sent daggers into his already throbbing head. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to call out in pain. 

It was then that his attention was called to another predicament; he had fallen asleep in the clothes he had left his room in last night. Only his sweater was on backward and it was all wrinkled and smelled slightly of the floor. And his belt hadn’t been buckled so much as strewn across his waist in a twisted fashion. And- was that  _ his  _ sock? Because it did not feel as high-quality as his imported woolen socks from Sweden. 

He attempted to sit up and was greeted by a wave of nausea, so he laid back down and tried to figure out how the bloody hell he had gotten himself into this position. 

“You reckon he’s awake yet?” Came a too-loud voice from outside the curtains around his bed. Draco wanted to scream at them to shut up, but he didn’t want to risk making any sudden movements. 

“I dunno. What do I do if he is? Do you think he remembers?” A second voice asked. 

The first voice laughed. “I bloody hope he doesn’t, mate. Otherwise, you’re in a whole world of trouble!” 

“I think  I heard him moving. Let’s go find Blaise. This is  _ his  _ problem, after all!”

“He just left for the showers. I’ll go get Hermione, she’ll know what to do about-” 

“NO! Do  _ not  _ get Hermione! Ron, what do you think she’ll say when she founds out Draco and I fucked while he was pissed out of his mind? She. Will.  _ Kill.  _ Me.” 

_ Fuck.  _ So that’s why he was- and the sock- and he-  _ FUCK.  _ It was at this point that Draco wondered if it was possible to kill himself without moving. All he had to do was reach his wand and utter the words to the killing curse. His wand- which was all the way on his trunk at the foot of his bed. So death wasn’t an option. But maybe if he rolled off the side of his bed- no, that would make too much noise. He laid still and listened, praying they’d give up and walk away.

Ron sighed, loud enough for Draco to hear through the curtains. “Listen, mate, you messed up just as much as he did. You and I both know you could have easily stunned him and made him go to bed. No one said you had to sleep with him! And don’t say you panicked, because Harry Potter does not withdraw when he panics, he does something about it. Just  _ talk to him. _ ” 

“You don’t understand,” Harry argued. 

“Why the bloody hell not? Because I haven’t slept with Hermione while she’s so drunk she doesn’t know her own name?” Ron asked. “Because you’re right! I haven’t! Because I’m a halfway decent boyfriend who doesn’t take advantage of her!” 

“I wasn’t taking advantage of him! He started it!” 

There was a pause. Draco could tell it was because Ron was glaring at Harry with all of his might. “Here’s my cue,” Draco mumbled to himself. He forced himself to sit up despite the throbbing in his head and the nausea in his stomach. He pulled the curtain up and mustered his most bitter snarl. “‘Morning, lads. Fancy getting me the strongest potion Pomfrey has?” He asked. 

Ron and Harry stared at him as if he was an alien for a moment. 

“Malfoy, you look awful,” Ron said, inching away slightly. 

Draco tried to smirk, but it hurt his head too much. “Ever such the charmer, Weasley. Now that potion isn’t going to fetch itself, is it?” He asked. 

Ron looked from Harry, to Draco, to Harry again. “Right. I’ll go get that. Give you two some time-” he muttered as he basically sprinted out the door. 

Harry watched Draco for several moments as if Draco had gotten rabies and was about to attack. “Erm, ‘morning?” Harry said quizzically. 

“Potter, give me  _ one reason  _ why I shouldn’t hex you into another dimension right now,” Draco snarled. 

Harry bit his lip and tried not to make eye contact. The light hurt Draco’s eyes and looking at Harry Potter  _ burned.  _ His mess of hair was in some sort of bun with loose strands everywhere. He was wearing a t-shirt and- was that? It was. Draco’s sock. But the worst of all were the several purple marks on his neck. Hickeys.  _ Fuck.  _ “I’m sorry, Draco,” Harry said. “What- what do you remember?” 

“Enough,” Draco snarled. “I can’t even look at you right now,” he said, turning away. 

He felt a hand on his shoulder. “Wait! Draco, we should talk about this,” Harry said. “I, erm, I’m really sorry. That was my fault- what happened. And, erm, what you said last night? About you still liking me, even though you’re mad. Do you think you could like me again? You don’t even have to like me. Just, please forgive me.” There was remorse in Harry’s eyes. And tears. And the brightest green Draco had ever had the pleasure of seeing. 

“I can’t, Potter,” Draco muttered. “And you know why? Because you did it again. You betrayed my trust. I’m sorry I put you in that situation. It was immature of me to act that way, and for that, I am sorry. But you betrayed my trust again. You could have easily stopped me, but you didn’t. And with that, I don’t believe we need to speak with one another again.” 

“Draco, you’re right, I-” 

“I bloody know I’m right, Potter!” Draco shouted, though his head felt like it was going to explode. “Now please, leave me alone!” 

Harry had a look of defeat in his eyes, and it shattered Draco’s heart because they boy who lived had never been defeated before.  _ Better he learn how to handle disappointment now while he’s old enough to figure out how to deal with it. The rest of us have been living with it our entire lives,  _ Draco thought bitterly. 

And yet, the boy who had been  defeated didn’t leave. He searched Draco’s eyes for something- any hint of remorse or sadness that he could find, but Draco refused to let him see it. Harry first clenched at his side, but it wasn’t angry. It was frustrated, and confused- the fist of someone who had never been defeated before. The fist of someone who had never before given up hope. “Draco, I’m truly sorry. And I hope that one day you can forgive me,” Harry finally said. Then, he finally left.  _ Finally.  _ Draco could have peace. 

\--

At first, Harry hadn’t let go. He stayed stubborn and refused to accept the fact that someone had defeated the boy who lived. But then, Hermione found out. 

And then, Hermione got  _ mad.  _

First, there was a lot of screaming. So much screaming, in fact, Ron had to magically silence her four times and drag her to the room of requirement twice. 

And then came the words. 

“I can’t  _ believe  _ you, Harry Potter! You of all people! I don’t care if it was consensual, you took advantage of him while he was  _ drunk! _ ” She screamed one night when she finally found the strength to force her screams into intelligible sounds. “He hadn’t even really forgiven you! I can’t believe this! Ugghhhh!” She screamed. “And you didn’t even  _ tell  _ me! Do you know who told me?  _ PANSY FUCKING PARKINSON,  _ Harry! I heard it from  _ Pansy! _ ’

“I’m so sorry, Hermione! But I knew you would react like this! What do I do about Draco?” Harry asked desperately. 

She gave him a look that said more than any of her words ever had. “ _ Nothing.  _ There’s nothing you can do, Harry.” For a second, she looked like she felt bad for him. She really did. But it wasn’t because of his destroyed relationship. She was sorry because she knew it was over for him and she knew he would never be able to accept it. “Try to move on. There’s nothing you can do to save this. You’ve ruined your chances with him forever,” she said softly. 

“ _ Hermione, _ ” Ron scolded. He started to push her away from where Harry stood. 

“I’m sorry, Harry. I think I need a few days to be away from you,” Hermione said over her shoulder. Again, she really did look sorry. And that was almost worse. 

The weeks after that were gray. It took Hermione a week to talk to Harry again, and when she did, she gave him a hug and then returned to normal. But Harry had never felt so lonely. Or so restless. He had never just given up before, and he didn’t know what to do with himself. He did his school work. He talked to Hermione and Ron and the rest of the Gryffindors to seem like he was functioning, but he spent nights trying to forget about the boy who slept in the bed beside his. It was an impossible task. 

Draco did not try to ignore Harry or avoid him. It just wasn’t worth it. They didn’t talk, and they didn’t look at each other. They existed in the same space and that was it. Whenever Harry and Ron were in the dormitory and Draco entered the room, it was like a cooling spell passed over and everyone lost the ability to form complex sentences. 

Hermione, however, maintained a healthy friendship with Draco. They frequently met in the common room to discuss the books they liked, or intellectual theories they had heard, or debate over muggle science versus magic. 

“He’s going to be okay,” Hermione told Harry one night after she had finished talking to Draco. “He isn’t right now, but he will be. Will you?” Harry didn’t answer. 

As the year drew closer to an end, McGonagall met with Harry several times in private. Most students only had to meet with her once, but Harry was a special case. As usual. 

“Listen, Potter,” she said one quiet night. “I know you’re sad about your little breakup, but I can’t have you moping around my common room all day,” she said. 

“Who told you?” Harry demanded. 

McGonagall grinned. “A little birdie,” she said absentmindedly. “But my point is,Potter, you’ve got so much to look forward to. Four different magic schools and seven Ministry of Magic offices have reached out to me to offer you positions, and you’ve ignored all of them. Potter, I don’t care if you say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to them, but you’ve got to say something! Now, I’d be happy to look through them again with you if you’d like-” 

“Professor?” Harry asked. 

She paused. “What is it, my dear?” 

“Is it going to get better?” He asked, staring at his folded hands in his lap. 

McGonagall sighed sympathetically. “Now you’re just being dramatic, Potter,” she said. “Have a biscuit,” she ordered, shoving the basket at him. “Life is going to get better. You’re going to get over that boy. It might take you a few tries, but you  _ will  _ find something you love to do and do it for a profession. It all works out. Potter.” Harry looked up. “It all works out in the end,” she said with a smile. 

Harry grinned back. 

“Now that that’s done, Potter, I’ve got a little business proposition for you,” McGonagall said. “I know you’re highly sought after, but I would like to offer you a teaching position here at Hogwarts. You’d have to be an apprentice for a few years, of course, but I do think you would enjoy it. Promise me you’ll consider it.” 

“No need to consider, professor. I’m in,” Harry said, still smiling. 

“Are you quite sure you don’t need to consult those little friends of yours?” She asked. 

“Hermione and Ron have got it all figured out, Professor. Hogwarts is where I need to be, I think,” Harry said. “My latest memories haven’t been the most pleasant, and I can’t leave here with bad memories. Hogwarts is my home, and it always will be.”

McGonagall shuffled some papers. “Well, if you’re sure…” she muttered. 

“I am. Very much. Thank you, professor,” Harry said, running out of the office before she could change her mind. 

\--

“Mr. Malfoy,” McGonagall said cheerfully. “What a pleasure.” 

When Draco spoke to her, it was mid-morning. He had skipped breakfast to meet  with her and his stomach growled rather loudly. He hadn’t had time to have some tea, either, before he came, which was a shame because he had recently become very attached to Lovegood’s happiness blend. 

“The pleasure is all mine, Headmistress McGonagall,” Draco said politely. He was dreading this conversation. What he really wanted to do was drink some tea, and then ask Hermione about the bloody muggle poem she had given him, and then go to bed, skip classes, and never talk about his future ever again. But alas, life is pain. 

“Have a biscuit, Malfoy.” Draco did. “We’ve got things to discuss. Now, as I’m sure you are aware, your grades this year are second to only those of Miss Hermione Granger. And with all of the publicity you’ve been receiving lately, you’ve attracted quite a few interested employers,” McGonagall said. She pulled out a stack of letters and placed them on the desk. “But Mister Malfoy, I don’t think you should take any of those offers.”

“You- you don’t?” Draco asked. 

“No, Mister Malfoy. I’ve seen what you’ve done with Mister Potter,” all of the blood in Draco’s cheeks. “You brought his grade up exponentially! You belong at the head of a classroom, Mister Malfoy!” She said it with such alacrity, that Draco almost believed it. “I would like you to teach here, at Hogwarts,” she said.

Draco bit his lip. “I’m terribly sorry if I offend you, Headmistress, but I  _ really  _ need to get out of this- excuse my language- bloody school.” 

McGonagall pressed her mouth into a tight line. “You did not let me finish, Mister Malfoy. Unfortunately, our current potions teacher at Hogwarts is not taking apprentices. However, I’ve been working on an  exchange program with Beaubuttons. It’s something I feel my predecessor Dumbledore really didn’t touch on enough. I am trying to get Hogwarts connected to every wizarding school in the world. I feel having an exchange program or even a pen-pal system is something our students could really benefit from. I would like to offer you the position of Hogwarts Ambassador at Beaubuttons. You could receive a potions apprenticeship there and report back to me regularly. I would give you assignments and such, of course, but your education is my main focus. And in- say five years, you could come and teach at Hogwarts and be head of the French exchange program, if I ever get it running,” she said. 

Draco was silent for several moments. 

“I’m not asking you for a commitment right now, but I do have to know before the end of this academic year,” she added. 

“Headmistress, your offer is at the top of my list,” Draco said, “but it’s quite a bit to think about. I mean, I know a small bit of French, but not enough to survive in France! And it’s not quite what I had in mind…” 

“As I said, Mister Malfoy, you don’t belong in a dusty potions cellar. You belong out in the world doing things.” 

Draco nodded. “I will definitely consider. Thank you very much, Headmistress.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I proooooomise there's a bittersweet ending!!   
> I love you guys so much. You're cool. Nice job.   
> In other news, I took the full sorting test (finally) and I'm 77% hufflepuff. No one is surprised. I've always looked good in yellow.   
> Okay some questions for you: would you like a sequel of this book? You don't have to answer that right away, we should probably get to the end of this one first. Second, would you guys be interested in reading my non-fanfic writing? If I was to post it elsewhere? Because starting next term I'm going to be taking a creative writing class and I've got some nonfiction stuff in the works, so just let me know if that's something you'd be interested in reading!   
> Thanks so much!   
> -Lily


	15. The End of an Era

The days got warmer and longer and the eighth years spent more time indoors studying. Hermione, of course, had been ready for N. E. W. T.s since she had been in second year, but no one else was quite so organized. 

Harry stared at the words on the page until they began to dance off and form little families together in his head. So far, he had constructed a detailed tragedy about “because” and “have”, but had learned absolutely nothing about the ninth elvish war against the trolls. On the bright side, it was easy not to think about Malfoy when he had so many other distractions on his mind. 

In his head, he had already passed his N.E.W.Ts and become a professor. He wasn’t too far off, judging by the number of people who had requested his help with Defense Against the Dark Arts. He fantasized about living in the teachers’ quarters and visiting Ron and Hermione on the weekends. Neville was on schedule to become the Herbology professor within two years, so Harry was glad to know he’d have a friend around. But most of all, he was excited to teach. He wanted to stand in front of a classroom and have his students hang onto his every word. He wanted to inspire a new generation. And he just wanted a break. As a teacher, he would be able to be a normal person. No more Mr. Savoir of the wizarding world. Just another Hogwarts Professor. 

But, as Hermione frequently reminded him, he would have to graduate first. And to do that, he’d have to pass N.E.W.Ts. 

Hermione had accepted a job at the Ministry as an advisor on the Rights of Magical Creatures committee, and her training would start almost immediately. After taking a second look at her grades, the Ministry had decided that she was too valuable to waste on a summer internship. Harry and Ron had placed bets on how quickly she would become Minister after that. Ron had decided he would be helping George out with the joke shop for a while. That meant N.E.W.T.s didn’t really matter to him, which meant Hermione was losing her mind. 

Draco thought about McGonagall’s offer almost more than he thought about his rapidly dropping maths grade. He had to admit, a retreat to France did sound nice. He’d get to leave all of the drama behind for once and just get to enjoy himself. He could imagine the small cafes and all of the lovely,  fashionable people he could meet there. And French was really just a beautiful language. Though there remained one thing stuck in the back of his head; he wanted to fight against the brutality of Azkaban. That prison took his father and left a wailing sack of bones in his place, and that could not happen to anyone ever again. Draco would not allow it. 

He talked to Hermione about it frequently. She always seemed more interested than Blaise was, and Draco did love to talk. Punishment didn’t have to be torture, Hermione understood that. She understood that he had to do something about it.

But…  _ France _ . 

“What does your heart say?” Hermione asked him one night in the common room. 

“I dunno,” Draco grimaced. “My heart says I should shut up and chose already. McGonagall said I have to get back to her by next week.” 

Hermione sighed and looked up from her potions book. “Look, would you like to hear what Harry’s doing?” 

It was the first time she had mentioned Harry to Draco since the second incident. But Draco felt nothing. “Sure. Tell me what grand old saint Potter is doing with his life. Perhaps that will tell me where  _ not  _ to be.” 

“Draco,” Hermione said. 

“Granger.” 

“He’s coming back here. Because it’s his home and he feels that he has unfinished business here,” she said, looking straight into Draco’s bored eyes. 

“Why are you telling me this?” He demanded.

“I’m just saying you should think about where your home is and if you’d like to change that or not. Because if you go to work for prison reform at the Ministry, you will stay with your Mum most likely. But if you go to France, it can be different,” Hermione said. “And who knows? If you don’t want to come back when the five years are up, I’m sure McGonagall can find a reason to keep you there. So what do you say?” 

“You want me to go to France.” 

“I want you to make your own decision and live for once, Draco!” Hermione said. “You’re brilliant and you’ll be accomplished wherever you go, but I just want you to go where you feel as though you can grow as a person the most. What do you think?” 

Draco sighed and leaned back, resting his head on the back of the couch. “ _ Je pense que _ I need to learn more French,” he said after several moment. 

Hermione grinned and handed him a textbook. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to learn Arithmancy first.” 

\--

The days before N.E.W.Ts came with an air of panic, as expected. The common room was silent. No Hufflepuffs destressing by playing instruments, no Ravenclaws blasting some concentration music or whatever, just the sound of breathing and the flipping of pages. Every once and awhile, someone would get up to use the bathroom and everyone would become unfocused for a moment before sticking their noses right back into their books. 

And when the day came where the eighth years gathered with the seventh years in the great hall where they met the testers, no one had been more prepared. 

Harry’s exam went rather smoothly. The writing portion was rocky, as expected, but he thought he pretended to know what he was talking about rather well. And when it came to the portion where he performed magic for a judge, he noticed the judge had already marked his grade as perfect before he had even taken  out his wand. 

Hermione greeted him with panicked screaming when he returned to the common room afterward, for she had forgotten what 5 - 3 was during her maths exam and she was certain the Ministry would no longer want her. Ron chuckled and rested his chin on the top of her head. 

“Hermione! It’s over!” Harry shouted. “It’s all over! All of it!” 

She froze for a second and took a deep breath. “Yes. Yes! I suppose it is!” She laughed outloud. It was forced for  a second, but then became loose and almost psychotic. “It’s over! It’s all over! WE NEVER HAVE TO TAKE ANOTHER EXAM!” 

The eighth years in the common room all whooped and clapped. Hermione’s cheeks glowed red. 

“Who’s in for our last bonding session tonight?” Seamus asked. He was answered by a series of whoops again.  

“This is so weird,” Ron said. “I never thought I’d actually have to leave this place. I never thought I’d actually be done with exams! I feel so free!” 

Hermione laughed, though it was still filled to the brim with anxiety. “Let’s head down to the Great Hall. McGonagall is speaking soon.”

The trio left  with the rest of the eighth years trailing behind them. They decided to take the scenic route through the castle. They wandered through the dungeons past the Slytherin common room, and then up but Ravenclaw, and through the center past the kitchen and the Hufflepuff common room, and finally past the Gryffindor room. They said goodbye to the hallway where a magical room sometimes appeared, and to all of the bathrooms and ghosts that lurked in them. They went up to Dumbledore’s old office and tears were shed. Harry could’ve sworn he saw one of the stone gargoyles stifle a sob. 

When they passed Peeves, he diddn’t call out or throw dung bombs at them. He just hovered there and smiled. 

And when their migration had come to an end, they all made their way to the Great Hall and took their spots at their table. Tonight, the entire hall was decorated with purple. The Hufflepuffs had won the house cup, but the eighth years had won Hogwarts. 

The other students grew silent as the young adults sat down and turned their attention to the from of the room, where McGonagall stood at a podium, eyes glistening. 

“Hello,” she said. Her voice was already cracking. “I’d like to congratulate all of you on the terrific end to a wonderful year. I’m proud to say that this has been the first year in about 4 years that no one has died, so thank you for that.” There was some light chuckles. “I’d like to congratulate our seventh years and all other who have continued to pursue their educations despite the tragedy that befell the school last year. I’d like to congratulate our first year students and staff for completing the year and I invite you all to return next year. And finally, I’m going to address the eighth year students..

“Now, those of you who are new to the school might not know that this is out of the ordinary. The eighth year students are students who were meant to be in their seventh year last year, but were unable to due to the war. They belong to all four houses, and they were an experiment on my behalf. I have always believed we shouldn’t sort children on who they are when they’re eleven. You’re all diverse, dual, and unique individuals who had the capacity to do anything, despite what color you wear on your ties. You’ve got seven years to change as people here at Hogwarts and I hate to think that we’re limiting that by placing you into personality groups. So this year, I mixed the houses to create one eighth year. And I’m proud to say, it was a huge success. These students bonded in ways I hadn’t imagined. They’ve grown as people, and I’ve never been more proud of a group of  Hogwarts graduates. And I’ve been here for a long time. These students are incredibly intelligent, empathetic, generous, and overall friendly people and it has been a privilege coaching them and watching them grow up.” Her voice cracked as she spoke and tears began to pour onto her pedestal. She turned to the eighth years. “As your head of house, I’ve gotten to know you all incredibly well this year. I deeply value all of the private and public conversations I’ve had with each and every one of you. I think of you as my children, and I believe we share a personal bond that I shall never forget. And as you leave the castle and get ready to embark on the world, I ask of you but one thing:

“ _ Do. Not. Forget.  _ Do not forget your years here. Do not forget the war. Do not forget your friendships. Do not forget your teachers. Do not forget your dreams.  _ Treasure these memories.  _ These are the things that make you who you are. And if it ever gets to be too much, you’ve got a support system amongst each other, and you may always come to me. Hogwarts is a home to all of you, and I mean it. We no longer have a use for the eighth year common room, so you’re welcome to visit as you please if you are ever in need of a warm place to stay. Do not forget each other. 

“And with that, thank you. Thank you for all of the wonderful things you have brought to this school. If I was to list them all, we’d be here until these first years become graduates. This school is changing for the better  _ because of you _ . I love you. Thank you,” she said and stepped back from her pedestal. 

She was rewarded with a standing ovation, but she shared it with all of the people in the room.

\--

“Okay, guys,” Seamus said, once everyone had settled in the common room. Tears had been shed, but everyone was able to pull through enough for one last game of truth or dare. “I’m going to start. Hannah, truth or dare?” 

Hannah smiled and took in a sharp breath. “Truth,” she said. 

“Where do you see yourself in five years?”

“I’d like to own a magical music shop in Hogsmeade and I’d like to expand the musical curriculum at Hogwarts,” she said lightly, smiling to herself. Several people clapped. 

Then, it was Dean’s turn. “Ron, truth or dare?” He asked. 

Ron sighed and leaned his head back. “Truth. I don’t feel like stripping for you tonight, Thomas.” 

“When are you going to propose to Hermione?” 

Harry laughed as both of his friends miraculously turned to the color of the Knight Bus. Ron sputtered for a moment before he finally said “after we both have job security and enough money to live comfortably,” which made everyone in the room giggle because of how strange it was to hear Ron say it. “My turn, Dean. Truth or dare?” 

“Dare!” Dean snarled. 

“I dare you to tell the truth,” Ron said. Everyone chuckled. “When are you and Seamus going to start adopting cats together?” 

Dean’s cheeks grew pink and Seamus tried to look unfazed, but Dean chuckled. “We’ve got a deposit down  for an apartment in London, right near where we’ll be interning at the Ministry. So I assume the cats come after they offer us a permanent spot.” Several people whooped and applauded. 

“My turn!” Hermione squealed. “Draco, truth or dare?” 

Draco grinned and sighed. “I’ll do a dare for you, Granger, but only you,” he said. The sound of his voice made Harry’s heart skip a beat, but he was determined to ignore it. 

“I dare you to say something in French for us all,” Hermione said. 

He sighed again and sat up. “ _ Je suis fier qu'on a survécu cette année, et j'espère que vous avez un bon vie, _ ” he said in a flawless accent. Pansy sighed dramatically and fanned herself with her hand. 

That night, he didn’t glare at Harry when they accidentally bumped into each other whilst packing their trunks. He didn’t smile, but he didn’t glare. And that was enough. Harry grinned to himself and continued to pack, though he knew he wouldn’t be leaving for good. 

The next morning after breakfast, the eighth and seventh years all boarded small boats on the lake. Harry sat in one with Hagrid and Neville, just as he had eight years ago. Per Hogwarts tradition, the graduating students all rowed out of the lake to the train station, just like they had when they first arrived. Only this time, Neville didn’t fall in the lake.

Harry sat bat and smiled, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he returned again.  

**The End**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAHHHH guys! I'm so sorry for the radio silence! I've been verrrrry busy the past two days.   
> But AAAAH IT'S OVER!! Except for the epilogue. Which is coming. Soon.   
> Once again, let me know if you want a sequel!   
> Anyway, thank you so much for reading and for all of your endless support!  
> -Lily


	16. Epilogue

**Seven Years Later**

“Have you got Marie Shewman in your class?” Harry asked, looking over the top of the essay to glance at Neville. They were reclining in the teacher’s lounge, grading in silence together as they did most nights. It was lovely. Harry had warm tea in his hand, and an essay in his right. 

His students loved his grading system. He didn’t care much about spelling or grammar, he just wanted them to tell him what they knew. None of the extra stuff. Thus, their essays ended up being much longer than they needed to be, but full of  information and passion. 

“I do! She’s a lovely girl,” Neville said, grinning. “She loves to help out after class. Why do you ask?” 

Harry frowned and brushed off the parchment. “That would explain the dirt on her essay,” he muttered. He sighed and continued grading. 

The teacher’s lounge was wonderful, and perhaps Harry’s favorite thing about being a teacher. It was warm when he was chilly, and cool when he was warm, and it was always filled with his colleagues and excellent food. He and Neville spent many long nights there, reminiscing to the old days when they would be screamed at for lounging there. 

Tonight, Harry wanted to be finished grading as quickly as possible so he could get to bed. It had been a long day of answering questions from first years who didn’t know who he was, or who he had been. Of course they had heard stories, but it was different than hearing it from the real thing. 

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door to the teacher’s lounge. 

“Hello?” Asked a familiar voice. 

Harry and Neville glanced at each other before dropping their papers and hurrying over. 

“Malfoy!” Harry exclaimed. 

The blonde looked much different than he had seven years ago. He was wearing a long dark coat over his robes, and his hair had been pulled into a tail at the base of his neck, tied with a bow. His shoes were black, heeled, and gleaming. His lips were pink and his cheeks (slightly less) pale, with thin-rimmed glasses balancing on his nose. He carried a black briefcase that matched his outfit by his side, and it had an eiffel-tower sticker stuck to the side of it. 

The man smiled and sighed. “It’s  _ professor  _ Malfoy now, Potter. Hello. Hello, Professor Longbottom. How do you do?” He asked. 

“I thought Minerva said you were staying in France for a few more years,” Harry said, nervously leaning on the doorframe.

“It’s been a few more years, Potter,” Draco said warmly. “Might I come in? I  _ am  _ a teacher now.” 

“Of course!” Neville said, moving aside so Draco could slip in. “Does Minerva know you’ve arrived? She’ll be glad to know Slughorn can finally get out of here! These past couple weeks have been agony for him, he was supposed to retire some twenty years ago, you know.” 

Draco placed his briefcase down on the ground beside an armchair. “Yes, I’m afraid my departure from France was a bit delayed. I rather fell in love with the place, it was hard to make myself come back, but it’s good to be home,” he said with a glance around. “Though I’ve never been in here before. It’s slightly disappointing, is it not?” He asked. Neville and Harry laughed. “Minerva saw me on my way up. She said you knew the way to my quarters?” 

“There’s an empty room next to mine. Let me grab my papers and I’ll show you up!” Harry said. “You coming, Neville?” 

Neville sighed. “I’ve got thirty more papers to get through, but we’ll do drinks in Hogsmeade tomorrow night! My treat!” 

“Thank you very much, you have no idea how nice it is to have some familiar faces!” Draco said and waved goodbye. He followed Harry out the door and down the corridor. “How have you been, Harry? I assume we’re on first name basis now that we’ll be co-workers.” 

“You’re assuming a lot, Malfoy,” Harry said shortly. 

“Harry, it’s been seven years since we’ve last seen each other. It’s as if we’ve started over as first years and graduated again. That’s how much time has passed. I believe it’s time we put our past behind us. I’m sorry for anything I might’ve done to upset you. I wish that we can be friends again,” Draco said shortly. 

Harry sighed. “Me too. I’m pretty sure it was all my fault, so _ I’m  _ sorry.”

There was a silence for a moment. 

“You haven’t answered my question. What have you been up to for the past seven years?” Draco asked again. 

Harry sighed and rolled up his sweater sleeves. “Teaching. I’m the defense against the dark arts teacher and the flying instructor, sometimes I help out with quidditch. It’s been nice. The kids really look up to me, and they see me as a professor, not as a savoir. It was tough at first, but they’re starting to get young enough that they don’t fully know. The first year was rough, they were kids I had fought alongside and all of the sudden I was in charge of them. It’s okay now, though.” 

“Have you been dating a lot?” Draco asked. 

“Not much. A few guys here and there, a girl or two. They never really understand, though. How about you? Tell me about France?” Harry asked. 

Draco smiled. “It’s magnificent. The school is in the countryside, and the stars are so clear and bright that they haven’t a need for enchanted telescopes in astronomy. They value manners and etiquette much more than we do. Each meal is at  _ least  _ five courses, and one of the courses is just cheese. The language is gorgeous, I adore speaking it. Their potions ingredients are always fresh and organic, and very potent. But as much as I loved it, Paris has a strange odor to it, and cheese gets very boring very quickly. I’m happy to be back. I’ve seen a couple blokes, if that’s what you’re wondering about. Here and there. No one has stuck around, though.” 

“Why’d you come back?” Harry asked. “No offense or anything.” 

Draco chuckled. “It was time,” he said softly. 

They arrived at the corridor where all of the teachers’ rooms were located and came to face two doors. One said POTTER in bold letters, and the other said MALFOY. 

“Here we are,” Harry said. 

“Seems so. Have a good night, Harry. I’ll see you in school.”

“See ya around, Draco.” 

The men stood and smiled at each other for a moment before turning and entering their own respective rooms. Here was to new beginnings. 

**THE END (for realsies)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THEEEEE EEEEEEEENDD!!!  
> Not really.   
> Because, due to high demand, there will be a sequel!!   
> Do you guys want me to post it as I'm writing it or post it in four years when it's finished? Because I haven't started it yet. If I post as I'm writing, there are going to be some huge gaps between chapters because I've been crazy busy lately, more so than I have ever been in my life. But if I wait until it's finished, it might quite literally not be for years hahaha. So let me know!! Pleaaasee!!! I'll start writing today!   
> Either way, keep an eye out for it!!   
> Thank you guys so, so, so, much for reading! I know I say it a lot and I say it when I reply to your comments and everything but I really really mean it from the bottom of my heart. It's so fulfilling to have something I've worked on so hard come to life in you guys. Your feedback has been incredibly helpful!!   
> I really am grateful for the reads, comments, and kudos. Thank you.   
> See you in book two!   
> <3 Lily


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